Her Sanguine Heart
by Story Please
Summary: Vampires can survive most things, even poisonous snake bites and absurd amounts of blood loss. It is a good thing, therefore, that Severus Snape is actually a vampire, thanks to a "prank," courtesy of Sirius Black. It is not something he has shared with many people, but extenuating circumstances force him to bare more than his love of blood to Hermione after she is attacked.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: My friend, Corvus Draconis, complained that there aren't very many good Vampire Severus stories. I have to, unfortunately, agree. My take on vampires is far more dark and nasty than cute and sparkly, so please be warned, there may be some mature themes and sexual parts (I'm fairly certain they won't get too graphic, but I'm rating this story M just in case and will do my best to warn you in advance).

Please let me know what you think! :)

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Chapter 1: There Will Be Blood

If it hadn't been for Draco sodding Malfoy, none of it would have happened. Perhaps if the blond Slytherin boy was less oblivious to the impact of his words, he would have prevented everything as well. But fate has ways of twisting even a tragedy into comedy.

And vice versa.

It had started out as a prank, really. Pansy Parkinson would never have admitted that it was anything else. But the dark truth was that she hadn't cared about the extent of the fallout for her actions. All that mattered was getting her revenge on that damn mudblood.

That damn, perfect, bushy-haired vixen who was stealing away her boyfriend's heart without even knowing it.

It was all that Draco would talk about when they were together. Granger did this. Granger said that. Granger and her brilliant, stupid smile. Pansy hadn't realized she'd gotten off easy when he'd merely been obsessed with going on about Potter. But the last straw had been when he'd nonchalantly mentioned how fit Granger was getting now that she had begun jogging daily around the Black Lake.

Pansy had promptly turned a violent shade of purple and told a very shocked-looking Draco that he could go wank himself off from now on, not that she did such things often for her boyfriend.

After all, a pureblooded lady had to keep her dignity.

A week later, when she had calmed down, she'd considered forgiving Draco for putting his foot in his mouth. After all, he was a young wizard and boys were like that sometimes.

But he was not in the Divination classroom by the time she got there after her Arithmancy class had ended. Looking out the window with a despondent expression, she saw a flash of Slytherin robes and white-blond hair as the very boy she'd been looking for sprinted toward the Black Lake beyond. There was only one reason he would go out in the early autumn chill alone.

Pansy's eyes burned with fury.

Taking the stairs two at a time and racing out the front doors of the castle, Pansy followed Draco out to his little viewing spot by the Black Lake. When she had seen what he was doing in the bushes as he watched the bushy-haired Gryffindor girl bouncing and panting around the lake's edge, she'd nearly hexed Draco's bits off.

After all, they were right there, within feet of her, in plain view.

At the last minute, though, she changed her mind. Pansy stilled her wand, though her hand was still shaking with fury, and melted back into the foliage. A very wicked idea indeed had occurred to her and she strode off with solemn resolve to begin putting her plan into action.

Draco had not suspected a thing. It wouldn't have mattered much even if she had made noise, though. His flushed face and faraway eyes betrayed just how far gone he was in lusting after Hermione Granger. When he finally reached that elusive peak, he called out her name huskily before hastily Scourgifying himself and flipping his robes over his lean, well-toned body.

When he returned to the Slytherin common room with a marked spring in his step, Pansy sneered at him from the couch by the fire.

"Taking up bird watching, are we?" she said venomously, delighting in how his eyes narrowed.

"None of your business," he shot back, heading up the stairs to the boy's dorms.

Pansy's fingers ached as she squeezed her hand tightly into a fist.

"Damned Princess of Gryffindor and her damned shapely body," Pansy hissed, looking down disparagingly at her flat chest and narrow, boyish hips.

She finished scrawling a note out on parchment and rushed to the owlery to send out her message.

Pansy's mouth curled up into a cruel smile as she waited for the reply. She was going to enjoy cutting that bushy-haired know-it-all down to size.

* * *

When questioned about the incident afterwards, Sirius Black insisted it was all a prank. He swore up and down that he didn't realize that he had locked Severus Snape into the large, windowless closet that just happened to be occupied by a visiting vampire named Sanguini, who had been invited as a special guest for the upcoming Slug Club Halloween party.

In fact, the only reason anyone had gone looking was because Sanguini had not shown up at the pre-party soiree that Slughorn had thrown and he had been so upset at the state of things that Dumbledore had finally become involved.

The lock had been blasted with several spells that had turned it to molten metal that had frozen in place, and Sirius had managed (or at least, so he maintained, being the only one who was caught) to seal the entire door area shut so that it was soundproofed and nearly air-tight. Of course, there was no true way to plug out all of the tiny drafts in a giant ancient castle. Even Sirius Black was not that good. But as Albus Dumbledore watched over the aurors as they worked to finally pry the door away from the stone of the castle itself, he almost wished that the poor Slytherin boy had been left to suffocate.

It would have been a kinder fate than what awaited him.

For a hungry vampire locked in a small space with a living human can only have so much willpower.

The door finally pulled away from the stone and landed with a crash on the stone floor. The Aurors raised shield charms around the dark space in case anything decided to try and escape.

They needn't have worried.

"Do not punish the boy. It is not his fault," said a smooth, cool voice from the shadows.

Sanguini emerged slowly from the gloom, his dark eyes full of sadness. Attached to his leg was a whimpering, wide-eyed Severus Snape. His skin had gone deathly pale and papery thin, which only drew more attention to the fang marks all over his pulse points. He was shaking pitifully as though he were incredibly weak, but when they tried to separate him from Sanguini's leg, he clawed at them like a wild animal and cried out to the vampire not to leave him, not to stop giving him the maddening pleasure that made him feel better than anything he'd ever felt in his life.

He never thought that he'd feel that way about a vampire, much less beg one to bite him. When Sanguini had finally succumbed to his hunger, Severus had worried it would hurt. He'd read about vampires. Fighting one, especially in close quarters while starving, was asking to be mauled. And so, he did what any Slytherin with an ounce of self-preservation did. He bided his time and made the best of the terrible decisions that were offered him.

When Sanguini's fangs slid into his neck, it did the opposite of hurt. His mind went far away. He felt warm, happy, sated. He was untouchable in a world that had never done anything but hurt him. And after that, he kept begging for more, though the vampire refused, doing his best to fight his baser nature, feeding only when he had to in order to survive.

But Severus was clever. He was good at arguing and cajoling his blood-sucking co-prisoner. He began to dig his fingernails into his skin until the blood welled up, causing Sanguini's pupils to blow wide, his much touted self-control as nothing. The vampire had been disgusted with himself when his mind returned to him, and he did what he could to help Severus stay alive in return.

It had been a long, bloody week.

"Quick! Send him to the infirmary and get him blood-replenishing potions!" Albus cried as he pointed his wand at the seventh year Slytherin and immobilized him with a Total Body Bind.

It took a bit of creative maneuvering for Sanguini to get his leg free, but eventually, they managed.

"I've taken too much," Sanguini said sadly, "He gave his consent, though. His sacrifice kept me alive. I can at least feel no mark upon my conscience for having reduced him to such a state."

Albus made a noise of agreement. Severus Snape was seventeen years old and therefore considered an adult by the Wizarding World. He was within his rights to freely consent to feeding a vampire.

"What will happen?" Albus asked, though he already knew the general details.

"He will either die…." Sanguini's eyes darkened for a moment before he continued. "Or...he will live...as I live."

Albus frowned and then nodded slightly, releasing the vampire from his side.

"I shall go to Slughorn and explain my rudeness," Sanguini said softly, disappearing silently into the shadows.

But Albus Dumbledore was busy watching the gurney being rolled in the opposite direction and the frozen face of naked hunger that lay upon young Severus Snape's face. His brow furrowed and he pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his sad, blue eyes.

He felt a twinge of self-loathing as he hoped that the poor boy wouldn't make it through the night. It was bad enough having to provide accommodations for the werewolf.

And unbeknownst to anyone, Albus Dumbledore fainted at the sight of blood.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for all the feedback! I'm hoping you enjoy the set-up and execution of this story. Things are going to get a little dark, but I'll try not to make them too painful to read. Stabbing you in the heart in the first arc of the story isn't exactly going to leave much of an audience for the awesome conclusion I have in store for you, dear readers!

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Bloody Hell**

 _Hungry. So hungry._

Severus opened his eyes slowly in the darkness.

"Unghhh," he moaned, trying to move his arms in vain.

His eyes snapped open and he tried in earnest to sit up, twisting his head in the gloom to see what had him held fast to the bed.

With a burst of clarity, it was as though a light had come on, and he could _see_ though there were no torches or windows around. There were silver manacles binding his wrists and, as he tried to move his ankles, his feet as well. He wasn't uncomfortable, other than the slight pinching sensation at his wrists and ankles when he struggled, but it concerned him.

He tried to think back. He'd been doing his homework in the library, minding his own business...something had hit him in the back...some kind of hex…

He worried at his lip with his teeth, a nervous habit he'd developed back when he was a child and gasped sharply when something in his mouth pierced his skin.

 _What are these….FANGS?!_

He suppressed a gasp, unsure as to whether anyone was nearby. Turning his head, from side to side, he noticed that his bed was completely surrounded by thick, velvet curtains that stretched from floor to ceiling without letting even the smallest crack of ambient light through.

And then, a soft voice came back to him. The vampire. He...he had….

"Oh _god_ ," he said aloud, his voice rasping horribly as he spoke.

A noise made him turn his head to his right. Even though the thick curtains obstructed his view, somehow he could see shapes silhouetted in red against the fabric. _Human_ shapes. It was almost as though he was seeing…

" _Blood_ ," he rasped, sounding, if anything, even more horrible than he had before.

He focused his ears on the sound, and found that he could hear a voice growing clearer, though the red outline through the curtain was quite far away.

"-And let the Headmaster know that he's awake," she was saying.

He knew that voice.

"Madam Pomfrey," he gurgled, speaking more loudly even though the exertion felt like blades churning in his throat. "Please. I'm _so_ thirsty."

The Medi-witch's heat signature approached the curtains but she stopped just short of the fabric and bent towards him as though about to whisper conspiratorially.

"I am so sorry, Severus," she said primly, "But Headmaster Dumbledore has forbidden me to cross through these curtains until he has come to check on you first.

"Can...can you at least….tell me how long I've been here?" Severus replied, fighting the urge to scream. It felt as though his throat was being torn to shreds.

The medi-witch hesitated for a moment, and Severus knew that this was a bad sign. He'd come to the infirmary more than most students, but even when his injuries were fairly serious, nothing ever came of it. Still, he'd developed a rapport with Madam Pomfrey in a way that he hadn't been able to with the other adults at Hogwarts, except for maybe Filch, who gave Severus some pocket change if he did various odd jobs and ran errands in Hogsmeade for the caretaker.

"You've been here for eight days. We weren't sure for awhile, there, Severus," she said softly, "You...you stopped breathing…"

Severus looked down at his chest and realized that the instinctive rise and fall of his chest only seemed to occur when he took a breath to speak or actively tried to do so. The beating of his heart seemed ridiculously slow when he focused on it, and he frowned. His brain felt fuzzy. If he'd been able to focus, something told him that he'd already know the answer, and that frustrated him immensely.

"I'm so thirsty," he groaned, trying to play the sympathy card.

Instead of going to grab the pitcher of water she kept in her office, Madam Pomfrey's heat image stiffened and she seemed to quiver for a moment before she replied.

"I'm so sorry, Severus. You'll have to wait for the Headmaster."

She turned, then, and walked away. He could hear her low heels tapping against the tile of the infirmary and closed his eyes, steeling his courage to swallow the lump that was growing larger and larger in his burning throat. He couldn't bring his hands to touch the skin of his neck, but the pain was great enough that he felt as though it must be covered in blood. Rich, hot, red…. _blood…_.

His eyes shook and went unfocused at the thought of it and he let out another moan, this one filled with hunger.

A terrified squeak erupted from his left and he turned to see the red heat image of a girl sitting up in the hospital bed next to his, clutching the sheets. She was small, probably a third year at most. Her fingers were bright red against the cool blue of the fabric, and he hungered for the blood that ran under them.

He rattled his chains, listlessly at first and then with more vigor until the entire bed vibrated. They made a fearsome racket but remained in place and he snarled, feeling something hard and needle sharp unfurl and extend as his mouth opened wide.

"Thirsty!" he screamed, his voice breaking. " _Thirsty_!"

Severus was so, _so_ angry, _so_ full of confusion and famished in a way that he'd never felt before in his life (though he was no stranger to starvation). He flailed in impotent rage, rattling the metal shackles and the bed until he thought it would collapse under him, though it never did.

He hoped Dumbledore would be there soon.

He would drain the bastard dry.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: In this chapter, I introduce you to the sister that no one ever knew Pansy Parkinson ever had, and for good reason, too. I couldn't help but make a couple horrible blood puns, because come on, how many times in my life will I ever get to choose the name for a vampire nightclub?

Let's hope Madame Puddifoot is putting on extra thick earplugs tonight, because things are about to get intense indeed.

Thanks to all of the reviews and comments so far! I'm glad that you enjoy my particular take on the vampire myth and hope to hear more feedback on how you think the story is shaping up (because, let's face it, we don't write fanfiction for the multimillion dollar paycheck, lol.)

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Chapter 3: Going for the Throat

Pansy Parkinson was, for all intents and purposes, an only child, even though she had an older sister.

It was complicated.

Hyacinth Parkinson had the same pug-like nose and dark hair as her sister, but her eyes were golden like honey under the hot summer sun. She was taller and more shapely in the chest and hips as well.

Pansy hated her for it.

Hyacinth was more than ten years older than her sister, and would likely have been an only child had she not fallen in love with a vampire and gotten herself Changed.

Pansy hadn't been there when her sister was blasted off of their family tree, but she often found her way into the drawing room to run her fingers over the fabric of their family tree tapestry, marveling at her name and portrait outlined in silver as she smirked at the black spot where Hyacinth had been. All pure blooded lines had one of these tapestries as a mark of their honor and superiority, though there was talk of a new shop in Diagon Alley offering similar services to half-bloods.

"Simply disgraceful!" Her mother had said snootily when she'd heard the news from Narcissa Malfoy.

"Why don't they just start selling them to muggles and be done with it?!" Her father had roared.

Pansy knew when to say nothing, but had nodded politely in agreement with her parents. They never brought up their oldest child. It was as though she'd never existed, which was a good thing. Pansy had scoured the various records at Hogwarts regarding her sister. Hyacinth Parkinson, Slytherin, Keeper, Prefect and Head Girl in her final year had been, for all intents and purposes, perfect and that was a hard act to follow.

Vampires, everyone knew, were monstrous half-breeds of quite a peculiar kind, as they looked mostly the same after their transformation, though they suffered from infertility and a rather unmistakable need to imbibe blood to survive. Still, the process that turned a witch or wizard into one changed the fundamental nature of their bodies in a highly unnatural manner.

And unnatural things were not to be tolerated in the Parkinson home.

But Pansy was nothing if not the consummate Slytherin. She'd tracked down her sister, which hadn't been all that difficult in the end once she had gotten her hands on the Ministry's wedding records.

It never hurt to have connections, even disreputable ones, as long as no one important knew about them.

And now, years later, Pansy's entire plan hinged on the help of her sister.

For one of the most interesting things Pansy had learned while reading about the vampire's bite was that it not only ensnared but enamored. Vampire fangs were naturally coated with a lubricating secretion that not only numbed the pain of entry but produced a narcotic effect that became quite instantly addictive to the victim. The story of "Renfield" from the original Dracula novel had quite a bit of precedence to it. It had, in fact, become a slang term for a companion kept living as a regular food source. After all, why suck a victim dry when the Need struck if it was possible to secure a steady supply of blood for over a century?

In order to survive in older, cruder times, a vampire would enlist or force the help of a couple of "Rennies" as servants or lovers in order to get regular feeds and to protect/transport the vampire during daylight hours. Very rarely, a vampire would try to go it alone and leave a trail of villages full of people going through "lovesickness" as their bodies slowly purged the chemical left behind by the vampire's bite.

Pansy smirked at the thought of Hermione acting like a lovesick loon. Even a witch of her power and ability would be unable to resist the effects of a vampire's bite.

It was also a myth that vampires needed to drink all of the blood in the human body at one time to survive. The only time this ever happened was when groups of vampires got together and their Need became too great and overwhelmed their senses. Of course, from time to time there were isolated incidents of vampires creating gangs or organizations for the express purpose of draining human beings in group feeds, but they were swiftly destroyed or disbanded by the council of Elder Vamps and their Vipers- trained hunters of rogue elements who were legendary for their kill counts.

Pansy, unlike Hermione, did not believe everything she read in books, nor did she read into anything that wasn't directly tied to her plan. It would likely have saved her quite a lot of pain and suffering later on had she paid attention to that last passage, but as it was, she had already begun creating her nasty plans for Hermione Granger, and her pride blinded her to the possibility that she was capable of making mistakes in her cleverness.

Hyacinth Parkinson was now Hyacinth North. Her husband, a great, blond Icelandic man with a house-shaking laugh and crystal blue eyes, was so unlike any vampire Pansy had ever heard about that she'd almost refused to believe what he was until he begrudgingly extended his fangs for her. Hyacinth was far more of the standard, wears-all-black-with-a-permanent-scowl variety of vampire, but their mother was the same way, so it was hard to tell if her sister had become truly a different person after the Change.

Hyacinth and her husband (along with several of their personal Rennies) ran an all-night establishment out of Madam Puddifoot's basement, which had been magically enlarged to suit their needs. Of course, the students of Hogwarts remained largely unaware of it, but that was largely due to its late hours and strict adults-only policy. Part nightclub and part music hall, The Jugular Veinue was warded so that only those who were of age could actually see it, and special dampening spells all around the outside kept even the loudest witch's punk band from disturbing Madam Puddifoot, who slept on the third floor level of her shop.

Hyacinth was ambitious for a vampire, and Hogsmeade was one of the most liberal Wizarding communities in the country thanks to Dumbledore's years of influence, so while it was almost unheard-of for a vampire to own and operate a business, she'd succeeded marvelously. Though there was still a huge amount of prejudice and red tape to navigate at the Ministry, she'd used her family name and tragic story of being disowned to garner sympathy from the more progressive element in the Ministry, and Gringotts had been all to happy to approve her loan. However much they loved keeping hold of their more wealthy patrons' money, the goblins loved to make trouble for pure-blooded, snooty-nosed bigots however they could, and what sounded more troubling than a vampire run nightclub right next to Hogwarts?

Hyacinth was the brains behind the business- she handled all the money, publicity, and hosted in sleek dresses that hugged her shape and did her every favor. Her husband Lars tended bar, doing amazing tricks using his enhanced speed and agility and received impressive tips for his "entertaining drinks." He was also an excellent chef, though he never tasted anything he ever made for obvious reasons. He'd even released a cookbook on healthy, tasty dishes for vamps to make for their Rennies to give their blood the best flavor possible afterwards.

"A meal that keeps on feeding," he called them.

They sold the book out of their business, but it had also been a bestseller at Flourish and Blotts every year for the three weeks before Halloween for obvious reasons. They actually kept one on display at the host's podium near the entrance, which Pansy passed on her way inside to speak with her sister.

But cooking was the furthest thing from Pansy Parkinson's mind.

Pansy glanced nervously around the dark, velvety interior of the nightclub. The blood-red ambient lighting and the black velvet curtains prevented any light from penetrating through the few windows even if they hadn't already been spelled to be pitch black during the daytime. It gave a thick quality to the air that seemed to make it harder for Pansy to catch her breath. The mahogany and velvetine furniture and decor had a classy look to it, one that would have been very popular in London had the city been more open to the sort of nightlife that included creatures of said night.

"Pansy!" Lars cried loudly, nearly crushing the petite Slytherin student in his massive arms.

"I got your letter. I see that you were too impatient to wait for a reply," Hyacinth said cooly from behind him, her body adorned with a silvery dress that seemed to shimmer in the low light as though made of a thousand tiny scales flowing in an invisible wind.

"I knew that you'd be up since you both don't actually need to sleep," Pansy gasped, attempting to shrug nonchalantly as Lars finally released her from his bear hug of doom.

"Your letter was not specific about your...need for services," Hyacinth continued, looking at her gloved fingers with narrowed eyes as though inspecting the nails underneath.

"They're not for me," Pansy gulped, "They're for...a friend. I knew you'd be supportive because you've…well...gone through it."

"I took the risk of attempting the Change not only for love, but because I believed it to be the right choice for me," Hyacinth purred, sliding her other hand up her husband's back and ruffling his hair as though he were simply a big dog and not a fanged predator that hunted human beings for their blood. The mental image was completed when Lars grinned with pleasure at her ministrations. "Besides, you are aware that some do not return from the edge of the Abyss, yes?"

"Don't be melodramatic," Pansy replied, crossing her arms.

"And you say she is sure of her need to do this? Is this...friend...of yours of age?" Lars said suddenly, prompting both women to look at him curiously.

"Yes! Yes! I don't understand why you're both being so difficult!" Pansy growled. She nearly stamped her foot in irritation.

"Pansy, I warn you, there are not many...reputable...vamps that will assist with the Change on an unknown individual, and it won't come cheap," Hyacinth said softly, "Your best bet is for her to meet a vampire herself and develop a close rapport. If she Changes, it will be much easier to take mentorship from someone she knows."

"Just tell me, already!" Pansy shouted, her voice nearly a shriek as she spat out the words.

"Lars, be a dear and go work on the sound system," Hyacinth said, suddenly, "I need to speak with my sister. Alone."

All that Pansy could think of was that look on Draco's face as he….as he watched that horrid Hermione Granger. He would never look at her like that. Never.

She needed to pay.

"I know that look," Hyacinth replied, her face darkening, "This isn't charity you're looking for. It's revenge."

"Fine, you caught me! Why, you might ask? That Gryffindor bitch stole my boyfriend from under my nose! Without even trying! She needs to be brought down a peg, and he needs to realize that he had it better when he was with me!" Pansy retorted, throwing up her hands, "Whatcha gonna do, report me?"

"Pansy, you don't understand what you're asking me to do. If word got back…"

"Word will never get back. I'm not going to tell them that you sent me. I'm not a Crabbe or Goyle." Pansy sniffed.

Hyacinth cracked a small smile at this. The Parkinsons were far superior to both the Crabbe or Goyle families, that was for certain.

"I don't know…."

"Well, then, how about this? You tell me where to go, verbally, and I will go and hire one myself."

"Pansy! That's suicidal!" Hyacinth gasped.

"I'll wear garlic around my neck and pour holy water over my head before I go," Pansy replied sardonically.

"You know that those things are old wive's tales and don't actually affect my kind!" Hyacinth replied. "Fine. You know what? I think I know exactly who can help you out."

"You do?" Pansy squeaked hopefully.

"Yeah. Get her to come here for a good time. In fact, here, give them both tickets for the Wailing Banshee concert tomorrow night at ten and I'll arrange for something that will make them both think twice before screwing with a Parkinson again." Hyacinth narrowed her eyes and grinned, looking positively evil.

"Thanks, sis," Pansy replied, her eyes huge with gratitude.

"Don't tell me you're going to take him back when all of this is over," Hyacinth replied, crossing her arms.

"Well, he is a Malfoy," Pansy replied, shrugging.

"Touche," Hyacinth replied. She'd seen Draco before. He wasn't exactly the kind of boy that one passed up if there was the tiniest chance of landing him.

The women grinned at one another conspiratorily and Pansy tucked the tickets into her robes.

Yes, indeed. No one messed with the Parkinsons and got away with it.

Especially not some Gryffindor bitch.

* * *

Professor Severus Snape, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, awoke in the darkness, groaning as the Need filled him.

"Great. Just great," he groused, dragging himself out of bed. It was still too early for the sun to be up, but he already knew it was going to be an unpleasant day.

He looked into the glass over the sink and grimaced at his reflection. It wasn't actually a mirror, but spelled to make an exact phantom image of himself, which was nearly as useful, as mirrors didn't exactly cooperate with him anymore. Pulling his wand from his robes, (he slept in them because it was easier to just cast a Smoothing Charm on them than disrobe), he summoned a large jar filled with a greasy substance that looked a lot like petroleum jelly, though it had a fairly pleasing minty scent. Using his wand, he basted any part of his body where his bare skin showed, however slight, with the liquid. This included his hair and scalp, which made his fluffy black hair go more limp and greasy than ever. No one would ever know he'd finally figured out how to fix his hair problem, but then again, he found it hard to think of anyone he actually felt needed to know such a thing. And even with a layer of salve applied liberally, his skin still itched and burned terribly when it touched direct sunlight.

Luckily for him, Hogwarts and its outlying areas were full of shadows, even during the day.

Truthfully, he'd wanted to escape the hell of teaching at Hogwarts when he'd been given the chance and thought to be dead, but after the war had ended and he'd been outed as the hero/spy who was on Dumbledore's side all along (Hah, as though it had been some noble service he'd done out of the goodness of his heart! Sometimes he still chuckled a bit darkly at that one), he'd still had one massive problem.

Namely, making his way in normal wizarding society while also being a vampire.

It was fairly easy for him to deal with the vampire's natural aversion to light, for not all spectrums of visible light were actually harmful to him, or he'd be toast, literally, every time someone aimed a lamp in his general direction. The salve he'd created blocked the majority of the harmful UV rays that would burn his body, though he had to apply it several times a day and direct sunlight still hurt him without actually killing him.

But according to a number of muggle medical journals he'd read, UV light wasn't good for non-vampires as well. Still, he noticed that wearing sunscreen didn't appear to be a priority for most people, though he suspected that was due to the fact slowly developing melanoma was a bit less dramatic than suddenly bursting into flames. He imagined that if catching on fire was the consequence for going out on a nice, sunny day, more people would be careful to apply their sunscreen regularly.

He'd always worn fairly concealing robes, as he had a number of unsightly bodily scars, so it hadn't been too difficult to purchase thicker garments that buttoned all the way up to his chin and covered everything except for his hands and face, thereby minimizing the surface area of his body that he would have to coat with greasy salve. Sure, he was paler now than before he'd turned, but not by much. And to be honest, no one spent much time staring at his ugly pinched face anyway, other than perhaps to gawk at his nose.

When all was said and done, it was actually fairly easy for him to function in his altered state without giving away his secret. Besides, wizards and witches aged slowly anyway and he made potions as part of his livelihood. It was, therefore, easy to explain away his unusually youthful features. And though he was loath to call it a blessing, his years of service and stress under both Voldemort and Dumbledore had aged him prematurely just enough for him to seem believably older, but only just barely. Many other wizards his age who had survived the war were going gray and growing a paunch. Much to his own secret relief, Severus was in danger of doing neither of these things.

For, as he'd learned from Sanguini, vampires were not truly undead. They were merely far longer-lived than most beings and therefore had slower heartbeats and did not need to do things like breathe more than once or twice every hour unless they chose to do otherwise.

There were plenty of perks to his altered state as well. Vampires had night and heat-vision, and their ears could hear a pin drop from over a half a mile away. This made them silent, quiet predators, which also made for an effective spy. As much as Dumbledore had grumbled about having to secure "an ethical blood supply," the old fool had reaped his fair share of benefits. Severus was loath to admit that he sometimes missed the old coot, but he still felt a painful tightness in his chest every time he was forced to go near the Astronomy Tower.

There were drawbacks, of course. If his skin came into contact with even the weakest of sunlight while uncovered and without salve, it burst into flames immediately. He'd learned that the hard way, unfortunately. He could also...smell...people. It was distracting to talk to someone while a part of his mind was stuck on imagining how good or horrible they'd taste. He'd gotten to the point where he'd been able to identify people by scent alone, which, while useful, was pretty creepy. Drinking blood had to be the worst. Well, that wasn't exactly true. The taste of blood, freely given, was divine. But Severus was unwilling to keep Rennies around, preferring his solitude to being surrounded by groupies who were in effect junkies for the sting of his bite. They didn't know what they would be getting themselves into, and once they were hooked, it would be very hard for them to leave, even if their conscious minds wanted to do so, and this was incredibly upsetting to him, though he'd never say as much.

It reminded him far too much of his own servitude to the Dark Lord.

Which meant that he had to find temporary donors or secure his "supply" from others such as himself who had a number of willing Rennies of their own. Still, it was never as good as he knew it ought to be. Still, his own experience marred every possible encounter, and he feared that he would lose himself to the Need and accidentally cause his Feed Partner to Change. Luckily, it was a myth that being bitten once would turn a person into a vampire. It had been his biggest fear when he'd had his first feed. The thought of trapping someone, especially if they were unwilling, in a state of goo-goo eyed servitude was more than he could bear. Severus had been trapped under extenuating circumstances and there had been no way to reverse the process by the time he'd been rescued, but most adult bite victims recovered within two days.

Sanguini had been a fine teacher, but Severus had never been much for communal living and had decided to stay behind when his Maker had returned to his home in Italy. Besides, loath as he was to admit it, Hogwarts had always been his home.

Severus pulled on his cloak and left the castle through one of the secret tunnels that Salazar Slytherin himself had placed in the Head of House's chambers. It was up to each new Slytherin Head of House to discover the secrets of the chambers, and Severus had done so in record time. But with the Need gnawing on his insides, he didn't have much energy to think on any of these things very deeply. His hunger bubbled under his skin like an itch that he couldn't quite scratch. He pulled back his lips into a sneer, feeling his incisors instinctively sliding down over his bottom lip slightly as he anticipated his feed. There was nothing for it. With a silently cast spell, he leapt into the air, not unlike a large black bat and flew towards Hogsmeade. His pupils were blown as wide as a cats as he stared ahead in the early morning darkness, intent on his destination.

Soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** There's a lot of plot in this chapter, but I'm not going to apologize for it, because it's all really important for what is still to come. And we FINALLY get to see things from Hermione's point of view, too! I know it may seem strange to you, but I am of the opinion that Hermione would feel a deep sense of guilt for not attempting to help Severus, and this is especially true if she has to see him every day in school.

I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please let me know what you think!

* * *

 **Chapter 4: A Concert to Die For**

"Don't run away. I won't be long," Pansy said coolly as she approached Draco in the Slytherin Common Room and watched his eyes go wide as he leapt up as though he were about to bolt. "I just wanted to say that I give up. _She_ wins. Go and make kissy faces with that mudblood girl and her stupid ginger cat."

Draco scowled.

" _Don't_ call her that!" he said sourly.

"Why?" Pansy replied, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "If I'm not mistaken, _you're_ the one who started the rest of us calling her that _particular_ nickname."

Draco's hand shook at his side and his face contorted into a snarl for a moment before he reined in his emotions and his face went almost blank.

 _He's calming himself down using Occlumency. Impressive._

Less than a year before, he'd just have screamed at her, and she would pretend to cry and run off and then they would have made up and snogged for hours in the achingly intense way she liked best.

But things were different now that the War had come and gone.

Pansy avoided his eyes, just in case he tried to use it on her, and took this opportunity to rifle in her robes and thrust the tickets out towards him violently.

"Here!" she said abruptly. "Take them. I don't need them anymore, now that we're not together. Think of them as a gift to wish you two luck in your happy future together."

"What are these?" he asked suspiciously, as he grabbed them. His eyes widened when he saw the name at the top of the tickets and his voice came out full of excitement. "I asked my father to get tickets but they've been sold out for ages!"

Pansy began to get excited too, until she remembered that she would not be going with him. She toed the plush rug and stuck her hands in her pockets. "Yeah, well, don't be too happy that you're free of me. You'll make a girl cry."

Draco's eyes twitched momentarily, the ghost of a sympathetic look racing across his face until he seemed to realize exactly _who_ he was dealing with and his eyes narrowed again.

"What do you want in return?" he asked, suddenly all business.

"Nothing much," Pansy replied, pouring sweetness into the tone of her voice as she looked up at him through her thick eyelashes. "It's just...if things don't work out between you two...I'd like you to consider trying things with me again. You might just find that our time apart has made our relationship stronger."

Draco gave her a skeptical look.

"You only broke up with me _yesterday_ ," he said dubiously, looking at her as though she were crazy, "I've never told Her-Granger, about...well...how she _affects_ me, among other things. And anyway, so _what_ if I like her body? It's not illegal to look or touch as long as I'm not marrying her or filling her full of bastards or something!"

They both turned pink at the implication of his outburst and went silent for a few moments, pointedly avoiding each other's gaze.

"You're not _afraid_ , are you?" Pansy said, sliding her gaze to glance hungrily at the way he was holding the tickets in his pale, slim fingers.

She wanted him to grasp _her_ like that. Her body hungered for the pressure of his fingers as they trailed down her spine and rested against the small of her back. They'd never done more together than snogging and a bit of outercourse, and Pansy decided that when Hermione was dealt with, she'd make him come to her in another manner altogether.

"Of what?" he muttered, looking at the floor.

"Of asking Granger to see the Wailing Banshees with you, of course!" Pansy replied, her tone implying that she thought Draco was purposefully being thick.

"What does it matter to you who I ask?" he replied loftily, "After all, Goyle's a big fan too."

Pansy glared at him. " _Draco Malfoy_! Now you're just trying to get a rise out of me."

"Fine, yeah, I was thinking of asking Granger," Draco sulked, "But there's no guarantee she'll say _yes_ , is there? She probably still hates me."

Pansy could think of a number of reasons the bushy-haired know-it-all would dislike Draco, and part of her wondered if simply goading Draco into being rejected was really all she needed to get him over his stupid fixation.

After all, there would be nothing like kissing Draco's wounded pride and making it all better to worm her way back into his good graces and, with time, his _heart_.

"You were the one who told me that you needed to follow you heart," Pansy said, trying a different tactic. "And even though I don't agree with where it has apparently led you, I'm still Slytherin, and we stick together in our House. I know that you have it in you to ask her, regardless of what she says. And hell, if you need to lick your wounds afterwards, I volunteer in advance to help you do it."

Draco looked a little bashful at this and Pansy suppressed a wicked grin.

She had him at last.

"Well, it can't hurt to ask," he mused slowly, "Besides, I could always pretend it was just a big joke if she says no."

" _That's_ the spirit!" Pansy replied, trying to sound supportive.

But as Draco turned and strode off to the library (as even Slytherin students knew where Hermione was most likely to be at this hour on a weekend) all Pansy could think about was the wicked curve of her sister's smile when she'd spoken of the plan she had in store. Her mouth turned up at the edges in a ghostly impression of the expression. She almost hoped that Hermione would accept Draco's invitation even as she winced a little at the twinge of pain in her heart.

 _Almost_.

* * *

Hermione Granger had just finished reading a fascinating chapter about Lesser Mountain Trolls when she finally looked up and saw something she liked even less.

 _Malfoy_.

Her eyes narrowed out of long-practiced habit as he walked down the narrow aisle between the bookshelves, carrying himself with purpose as he glanced left and right down the rows of shelves as though looking for something.

Hermione propped up her book, hoping that it hid her voluminous, bushy hair, which was doing rather badly due to the humid heat that had built up while she was working on her weekend potions assignment earlier that morning. Slughorn had been gleeful beyond belief at her near-perfect result. He'd blustered about talking about putting in a good word with his Ministry contacts to have her entered in the runnings to take Mastery level certification classes, but all Hermione could think of was what Harry and Ron must be doing without her.

She'd started jogging around the Black Lake every day to relieve stress and try and ignore the loneliness in her heart, though she had to admit that it had done wonders for her energy level. With her two best friends working hard outside of school, Hermione found herself feeling more isolated than ever. As one of the only students from her year who had gone back to finish her last year of school after the War, Hermione was surrounded by students a year or more younger than she was, and many of them were students from other Houses, as most of the Gryffindor students she'd fought side by side with in the final battle had gone on to work tirelessly in the Ministry or in other capacities as they rebuilt society. But Hermione knew that her place was here, at Hogwarts, finishing what she started. She was incredibly popular due to being a war hero, but most of the other students who tried to get to know her seemed to have an ulterior motive and it was exhausting trying to figure out who was being sincere and who was simply looking to use her for their own ends.

She'd had enough of being used as a pawn with an encyclopedia after all that had come to light after the War.

After losing so many in the final battle, Hermione had at first been overjoyed and then frustrated when she found out that Professor Snape had somehow been able to hold onto life long enough to be rescued and taken to receive emergency care. At least, that's what everyone had been told by a tight-lipped Minerva McGonagall when he'd shown up at the front steps of Hogwarts several months later.

Hermione had been overjoyed because she hated the idea of _anyone_ dying, especially after Harry had gone on at length about what he'd seen in the pensieve. But she was frustrated and angry at herself because she'd just stood there while he'd been bleeding out. She should have done something, _anything_! But she'd frozen at the sight of the blood pouring from his wound and the horrible gasping choking noise he'd made and then Harry had told them that nothing could be done, that Snape was dead. She kept kicking herself about how easily she'd believed him. She _knew_ that Harry's point of view was unreliable at _best_ , even when he didn't mean any harm. She'd had over seven years to learn that lesson very, very well, after all.

The regret surfaced every time she saw him walking purposefully down the hall. She'd even taken to sitting in the back of the classroom during Defense because she felt a horrible knot of despair twist in the pit of her stomach every time his dark eyes glanced in her direction.

Hermione was almost as good at avoiding Professor Snape as she was at studying, which is to say, quite adept indeed. She hadn't actually spoken to him directly in nearly two years. He'd always been a secretive, private person, and a war and a near-death experience hadn't changed that. It didn't help that her sense of guilt made it hard to breathe when he was nearby, though Harry and Ron had told her dozens of times that she was mental to feel that way, which was why she no longer talked about it with anyone at all.

It wasn't every night that the nightmares would come but it was often enough that she lost sleep. And in each one it was _she_ who was lying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, her blood pouring hot and wet from her throat as she gasped and choked, her vision going blurry and fading to darkness. She could feel a set of dark robes whisper against her cheek as her life ebbed from her body, their warmth causing a fluttering surge of hope before she was left, cold and alone in the dust and decay of the Shack.

And it was at that moment, before she woke covered in sweat and clawing at the sheets in terror, that she knew utter despair.

She kept telling herself that it was stupid to keep thinking about it, but the more she tried to resist, the more her mind fixated on that singular point of failure. So she threw herself into her studies. She was taking seven classes, including Advanced Divination with Firenze, which she was utter pants at, though this wasn't enough to force her to give up. She did a bunch of extra credit Potions work for Slughorn on the weekends and volunteered to help at St. Mungos on Sundays. She even did personal research projects "for fun," though they wouldn't receive any sort of benefit or grade once they were completed. She ran herself ragged so she wouldn't have to think, because thinking led to despair and Hermione wasn't sure if she could bear it any longer.

"Penny for your thoughts, Granger?"

 _Goddamnit._

Hermione glared from over the top of her book at the blond Slytherin boy... _well_ …Hermione had to admit to herself that he wasn't a boy anymore, not really. Who could remain a child after taking the Dark Mark? The scar on her own arm throbbed as her mind flashed momentarily to remembering the horrible thing that had been carved into her by Draco's aunt.

The horrible thing that Draco had called her long before she'd been trapped under the sharp knife and putrid stench of Bellatrix Lestrange's mouth.

She reminded herself that she wasn't a little girl, either.

Looking up at him, she noticed that there was actually a clump of wiry blond hairs growing from his chin, but they were patchy and nowhere near anything like a man's goatee. It gave him the look of a young male lion with his mane only partially grown in.

She smirked despite herself at this mental image, especially considering what House he hailed from.

"Care to let me in on the joke?" Draco said, leaning forward with his hands on the study table. He was trying to look nonchalant and casual, but Hermione could see the way his eyes darted nervously around, refusing to meet her eyes. A flush was creeping up his neck and there were small dots of perspiration at his temples.

"Oh, I was just reading about you, is all," Hermione replied a little snootily, closing the book.

" _Terrible Trolls and their Subspecies_?" Draco read, his eyebrow arching for a moment before he frowned. " _Ha ha_ , very funny, Hermione."

Instantly, he reddened, his hand going partway to his mouth as though to silence himself, but he'd already said it.

Hermione's head snapped up and she stared at him with wide, surprised eyes.

 _He's never called me by my first name before._

" _What_ did you call me?" she asked quietly.

"I'm sorry, I-" His calm demeanor had drained away and his eyes were wide and frightened as though he were about to run away at any moment.

"Say it again," Hermione said.

It was not a request.

Draco paled and gulped loudly.

"Her….Hermione?" he said, finally, his eyes on the floor.

"What changed?" Hermione asked, looking puzzled.

"What do you mean...what-"

"I _mean_ , why do you think that you can march in here like you know a _thing_ about me and call me by my _first name_?" Hermione's voice was rising as the rage filled her, warm and strong and powerful. "I thought that 'Mudblood' was your term for me...for _people_ like me."

She tried to stop the anger from overflowing. Logically, she knew he didn't deserve her ire. Harry had even written a long letter to Kingsley begging him to pardon the Malfoy family, which kept them all out of Azkaban, though their assets had been seized to help pay for damages wrought by the Death Eaters, and they were strictly forbidden to own anything Dark, regardless of whether or not it was a family heirloom. They'd kept Malfoy Manor, as ownership was tied directly to the Malfoy family's blood thanks to ancient magic, but now it was largely empty save for anything that was attached with a Permanent Sticking Charm or had no monetary value.

At this point, Draco was largely still shunned by his fellow Slytherins, save for Gregory Goyle and Pansy Parkinson. Blaise Zabini's parents had decided to enroll him at Durmstrang for his final year, and Vincent Crabbe had been burned to ash by Fiendfyre. And while the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws held no love for the youngest Malfoy, the Gryffindors who knew who had been lost made certain to make his life hell.

"I'm sorry….I didn't mean…" Draco was wringing his hands and had gone a particularly nauseous shade of green.

"You could have fooled me," Hermione snarled, standing and pulling her wand before she even realized what she was doing. "Did you come here to humiliate me again today? Because if you're looking for an easy victim, I can assure you, I've learned my lesson."

Draco stared at her wand with his eyes wide like a deer in headlights before his shoulders slumped and he held up his hands.

"Fine. If you have to hex me, get it over with," he mumbled, wincing instinctively as he expected a flash of light and pain.

None came.

Hermione had frozen, finally realizing that she'd let her anger get the better of her, and felt markedly stupid indeed. She slid her wand back into an inner pocket of her robes and put her hands on her hips.

"I'm not going to hex you, Malfoy," she said irritably. "I may _want_ to, but that's a completely different kettle of fish."

"The truth is…" Draco said softly "...I can't stop thinking about you."

Hermione opened her mouth but stopped when he raised a hand.

"No, please. Listen. I...I know we've never been on particularly good terms, but I need to know if what I'm feeling is real or if I'm just going crazy or something."

Hermione snorted. "Oh, that's _rich_. Hasn't anyone ever told you that confessing to a girl that you only have feelings for her because you've gone mad is rather insulting?"

"No! That came out wrong…." Draco trailed off, pulling something from his robes.

Hermione's wand hand twitched. She felt a stab of worry that her earlier reticence to hex first and ask questions later had been a bad decision.

" _Here_!" he said, shoving two pieces of cardstock-like paper under Hermione's nose.

"What are…?" Hermione said, surprised, her hand frozen halfway in her robes to grab her wand.

"They're tickets. For the Wailing Banshees concert. Tonight. I wanted you to go with me, but...I guess that won't be happening." Draco looked deflated as he looked at Hermione sadly. "So, how about this instead? I'll give you one ticket and you can go by yourself and have fun. And if I see you, you can pretend you don't know me and I'll just...stay the hell away from you."

Hermione frowned as she considered his words. She'd wanted to see the Wailing Banshees live since second year, but the concerts were always sold out within days of their tour being announced. And as a muggleborn witch, Hermione was unable to secure proper transportation to the box office, since her parents could not Apparate to its location like those with magical parents. But her parents wouldn't have let her go anyway. Thier daughter alone at a concert was not a comforting thought, and that went doubly for a concert where people had magic wands at their command. Not to mention the ungodly price of a single ticket.

She thought of her parents, still living in Australia and unaware of ever having a daughter with a twinge of sadness.

At least she would never have to worry about that again.

" _Well…_ " she said, as she held the ticket up to the light and saw the magical signature shine like an oily rainbow in the shape of the Banshee's logo, proving their authenticity. "Fine. You know what? I'll just consider this payback for all the horrid things you've done for me in the past. And you know what? I'm ok with you calling me Hermione as long as you swear not to twist it somehow into a cruel joke.

"How would I even do that?" Draco said tiredly.

He stuffed the remaining ticket in his pocket dejectedly and turned to go. And even though she had no reason for it, Hermione began to feel a little guilty about berating him so thoroughly.

"Wait." Hermione said, watching Draco's back stiffen as he froze and turned his head back so that she could see the profile of his face in the gloomy light of the stacks.

"Yes?" he said quietly, his voice almost rasping.

"I still don't want to go to the concert with you," Hermione said bluntly, cringing a little as he winced visibly in response to her barbed statement, "but I wouldn't be averse to, say, walking to Hogsmeade with you and then walking back when the concert's over. After all, there's safety in numbers and according to the tickets, it _does_ end rather late. That way no one gets the wrong idea that we're on some kind of date."

"Wouldn't want that, would we?" Draco replied flatly, but his shoulders seemed to be slightly less slumped than they had been before.

"So, then," Hermione said briskly, "Do we have a deal?"

"Sure," Draco said, turning back to look at Hermione, his gray eyes unreadable. "I'll see you at the front doors at eight o'clock."

"All right, then." Hermione sat back down and picked up her book again.

"See you later then...Hermione," Draco said, his voice neutral.

Then, without another word, he strode back towards the front of the library and left Hermione to her studies.

When she was sure that he was out of sight, Hermione looked up and scowled. She had mixed feelings about taking anything from Draco Malfoy.

 _But then again, he's certainly made life miserable enough for me in the past to owe me at least one ticket to see my favorite band perform live._

She cast a Tempus Charm and sighed when she saw the time.

 _Six more hours? That's practically an eternity!_

After groaning and smoothing her hair with her hands, Hermione stretched deeply and felt a little better. She opened up the book to the place she'd marked, pulling out her quill and began to take notes for her research paper about Pygmy Eastern Moss Trolls. No one would read this one, nor would they read the five others she had stacked neatly in her trunk, but at least it kept her mind from having to face the pit of darkness that filled her with guilt and dread whenever she had a moment free of distraction.

But no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, the despair gnawed at her and she feared that one day it would grow too large for her to successfully ignore.

She tried not to think about what would happen and instead turned the page, her quill at the ready.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note** **:** Hold onto your wands, readers. We're about to experience some turbulence.

* * *

 **Chapter 5: The Blood Thickens**

It was _not_ a date, so Hermione wasn't quite sure why she'd spent about half an hour changing outfits and being unsatisfied with them. She reasoned that this was her first real Wizarding concert and she was seeing her favorite band, no less, so that was why she kept feeling like she was either overdressed or underdressed and nothing really seemed to feel "right."

She threw the black Muggle jeans on her bed and growled with frustration. They'd fit just fine a few months before. Now they were loose on her arse and tight on her thighs and the tips came to her ankles though that should have been impossible, as she felt as short as ever. Hermione knew it was impossible that she'd grown any taller, though she would have welcomed even half an inch of height, especially seeing that whenever she spent time with Harry and Ron it made her feel shorter than a Second Year.

Hermione swore as she looked up at the wind-up clock on her bedside table.

She had less than thirty minutes to get dressed and down by the front steps to meet Draco or they'd be late to the concert, and she was _not_ going to let that happen.

She hurriedly threw together a bell-sleeved blue dress that fell just above her knees and showed off her slightly protruding collarbones, dipping down just enough to show a tiny bit of cleavage. It had an empire waist with a white ribbon that cinched under her breasts. Looking in the mirror, her eyes narrowed.

 _The cut is good but it's still not quite right._

She pulled out her wand and whispered a Charms spell she'd learned from Flitwick a few months before. The dress shimmered for a moment and went utterly monochrome, the blue changing to an inky black until it was as though it had never been any other color. The ribbon had gone dark as well, and she sighed as she looked at herself.

 _I look like I'm going to a funeral._

She pulled a small velvet bag from the drawer next to her bed and pulled out the small sapphire necklace that her parents had given her for the Christmas during her sixth year. It was the last gift they'd given her before she'd taken their memories, and it filled her stomach with a conflicting feeling of both comfort and guilt. Sliding it around her neck after pulling her hair to one side with one hand to clasp it, she pulled her hair back so that it fell around her shoulders and looked once more. The golden chain and shining blue stone helped make her outfit look a bit less morbid, and she decided it would have to do.

She had tamed her hair enough for it to be presentable and grabbed her beaded handbag (she never went anywhere without it anymore, not after all that had happened), tucking her wand into her sleeve, where it clicked into the wand holster she'd attached to her left forearm before getting dressed. She'd never been much for makeup or beauty charms, so she just washed her face and patted it dry, smoothing her eyebrows with a finger and then slipped her feet into some comfortable black Mary Janes.

"Well, it's better than nothing," she muttered to herself, as she left her Head Girl's private dormitory.

She returned minutes later, red faced from having sprinted back, to grab the ticket, which she'd left folded into her textbook on trolls like a bookmark.

Goddamn it. She was going to be late.

As Hermione ran down the stairs from Gryffindor Tower, she gritted her teeth and hoped for Draco's sake that he didn't make any snide comments.

* * *

Draco wasn't at the entrance to the castle when Hermione arrived, red-faced, from sprinting around in clothing that wasn't meant to be sprinted in.

A not-so-small part of herself was actually disappointed at this.

Instead, it was five minutes later, when she'd caught her breath and smoothed her hair out, that the blond Slytherin appeared, his face even redder than hers had been as he slammed into the doors and pushed them open.

"Suh-suh-sorry," he panted, bending over with his hands on his knees as he recovered from his exertions.

He was wearing dark green robes with a Celtic knot pattern stitched in silver thread that were a sight more formal and less standard-issue than his school robes, but Hermione could see where one side was slightly shorter than the other, and she guessed that these were actually somewhat older robes that he'd sized up using a charm.

He blushed with embarrassment when she pointed it out and pointed his wand to enlarge it to match the longer side. With a stab of guilt at her earlier desire to hex him on sight, she realized that she'd guessed right. Draco was doing his best to still appear to be the rich, spoiled boy he'd alway been, but the truth was that he had nothing to his name other than...well...his _name_.

And even _that_ had seen better days.

A dark patch on his shoulder drew her eyes and she pointed at it with concern.

"What's that...is it... _BLOOD_?" Her eyes widened as she drew closer and realized that, indeed, it was.

Draco smiled in a way that was supposed to look cocky but instead came out tired.

"Eh, don't worry about it," he said, his voice straining to stay nonchalant as he pointed his wand at the stain, making it disappear. "Some guys...they ambushed me with Slicing Hexes. Guess one of them got me. Don't worry. I'm fine."

Hermione stared at him for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she saw him flinch as he crudely sealed the cut underneath.

" _Who_?" she replied, her voice hard.

"It doesn't matter," he muttered, "C'mon, let's go. We don't want to be late."

She stepped forward and gripped the sleeve of his uninjured arm tightly, looking up at him with angry eyes.

"Who. Did. This. To. You?" she said, pronouncing each word as though it were its own sentence.

He looked away.

"There's nothing you can do about it now," he said softly, "It's my word against four of them, and as you can probably tell, my word isn't worth much nowadays. Besides, I fought back. So we're even."

Hermione dropped his sleeve and turned.

"They were Gryffindors weren't they?" she asked, her tone more of a statement than a question.

"It doesn't matter now," he said, glancing back as though afraid they might have followed him. "Come on, we are going to be late."

" _Fine_ ," Hermione replied, though it really wasn't, not really.

* * *

Their walk to Hogsmeade was surprisingly genial and Hermione kept up with Draco's longer stride fairly easily. He didn't smirk cruelly or sneer as he'd always done when she was around in their previous years, and a part of her secretly wondered who had abducted the real Draco Malfoy and substituted him with this... _surprisingly decent_ bloke. They chatted a little, but he never once went on about himself in a manner that suggested his head was still as inflated as it had been when he'd started school. In short, Hermione was somewhat taken aback at how Draco had _matured_ , which was something that she had been doubtful was even possible for someone as horrid as he'd been.

There were some allowances for older students who had returned to finish their last year of school after the war that had not been in place before, and Hermione was secretly glad that they didn't have to sneak out of the castle. Her rule-breaking was largely a function of trying to make sure that Harry and Ron didn't get themselves killed, not part of her own inherent nature.

One of these new perks was the freedom for students in good standing who were also of age to leave the grounds of the castle for various evening activities on the weekends. There were still wards and rules in place on school nights, of course, but on Friday and Saturday nights, students who were of age could take advantage of Hogsmeade's somewhat booming nightlife, which had largely sprung up in the course of post-War rebuilding.

The residential areas had grown so large that they'd had to add a second owlry for wizarding post, as many families stayed on after Hogwarts and the outlying area were rebuilt. The downtown shopping area had grown as well, including a new apothecary, a large supermarket with a surprisingly large selection inside, a wizarding gaming room, as well as a public quidditch patch and adjoining children's playground that had been recently finished. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had opened a second branch, which had a life-size automaton of Fred Weasley sitting astride a broom and dropping Dung Bombs on a small, toad-like automaton in a badly-fitting pink dress and business was booming in the joke shop industry.

Other than the _Three Broomsticks,_ which had been known to have small local talent nights from time to time, the _Jugular Veinue_ had become almost instantly popular as a place for adults to enjoy music, theatre productions and even a burlesque show or two. It was heavily spelled and warded against underage entry and was known as more of a nightclub/bar when there was no entertainment scheduled, so even though Hermione would have been able to go had she chosen to do so, she'd never had a reason, as she didn't drink anything more adventurous than the odd butterbeer from time to time.

"You know, I've only heard them on the wireless before," Hermione confided, her eyes sparkling in the dying light of day as they crested the rise that would bring them down into Hogsmeade. "So...thank you, Draco."

Draco's eyes had widened with surprise and for a moment, he looked a bit stunned, but he recovered quickly and smiled, which gave his proud face an almost _kind_ appearance.

Hermione did a double-take and then laughed excitedly, which earned her a puzzled look and a small, sheepish smile from Draco.

She'd known, logically, that the world wasn't split up into good people and Death Eaters, but after all she'd been through in the War, it had been hard to unlearn the instinctive wariness and the outright terror that filled her every time she saw someone who had connected her, however tenuously, to the horrors she'd experienced. It was one of the main reasons why she and Ron had never gotten past the furtive snogging phase of their relationship. And neither of these emotions were as massive as the rage and pain that had pooled in her heart and rose, unbidden, at the drop of a hat. But, hell, she was Gryffindor. She was supposed to be a fighter. And even when she had no fight left, she still had to _try_ , at least. Draco, for all his flaws, had points of similarity that she couldn't ignore. Maybe, with time, he could even become a friend of sorts.

She snorted internally as she imagined the horrified looks on Harry's and Ron's faces.

Well, first things first. She'd have to survive this concert without wanting to hex Draco's bits off.

Which, considering his new behavior, was starting to seem more and more possible.

"Come on, then!" she said, the excitement bubbling in her chest as she skipped a little ahead at the thought of seeing the Wailing Banshees in the flesh for the very first time in her life. "I don't want to be late, do you?"

* * *

The door to the Jugular Veinue was made of a dark wood with iron accents. It seemed somewhat out of place next to the doilies and frou frou accents of Madame Puddifoot's, but somehow, it didn't matter in the deep twilight. A large creature with a muscular man's body and the head of a bull stood at the entrance, looking rather fierce as he crossed his arms. Next to the minotaur, a small green creature with a turtle's shell and a beak in its surprisingly otherwise human-like face stood behind a little podium, a scroll in hand as it peered over. As they drew closer, Hermione realized that it was wearing little spectacles and had to hold back a snicker.

She'd never heard of a kappa with bad eyesight, after all.

"Ah, hello there," the kappa said, his voice a nasally whine, "Tickets please."

"Here you go!" Hermione said, handing him the ticket.

She watched him place a webbed hand over the seal and check the rainbow flash that proved its authenticity. Then he did the same for Draco's ticket. Clicking his beak, he nodded at the minotaur, who let out a snort and moved to the side, granting them access to the door.

They passed through a long hallway, which was adorned with moving paintings of various famous acts that had already passed through the _Jugular Veinue's_ walls, as well as plenty of open space for future acts. There was another dark door, which they passed through and sealed out any remaining ambient light and stepped through a beaded curtain into the deep crimson light beyond.

Inside, there was a beautiful bar made of what must have been oak, with tiny emerald glass cabinets and an assortment of bottles of various alcoholic and nonalcoholic substances for mixing. Plush, velvet covered bar stools sat in a row on the outside and there were a number of red velvet couches with small black tables of different sizes around the room, giving it an almost lounge-like atmosphere. The colorful display combined with the low, red lights made Hermione feel somewhat cozy and anonymous, which increased the already thrumming excitement in her chest.

Beyond the lounge area, there were two large, thick curtains that led into the auditorium, which had been magically resized to fit a standing crowd next to a tall, wide stage. As she walked through, she noticed that the curtains had also been spelled to dampen the noise from the concert area beyond. This made sense, as it would keep those whose ears were too sensitive to sit up in the main area comfortable as they reclined with their drinks. It would also make it easier to have a conversation with others without interrupting the musicians or vice versa.

But Hermione's last thought was on drinking or eating anything at all, though she'd skipped dinner in the Great Hall while preparing for the concert. She nearly forgot Draco was tagging alongside her, his eyes on her with an expression on his face as though he found her excitement endearing.

"My father...er...well, I was lucky enough to see them in concert during their _Screaming for the Hell of It_ tour when I was thirteen," Draco said, his cheeks reddening when he realized how he'd prefaced his statement. "Anyway, it's a real treat. You're going to love it!"

Hermione pretended not to notice his embarrassment as she watched the band's staff setting everything up. Their walk had been brisk enough that they were luckily still about five minutes early, and though there were already a fair number of other people milling around, most of them had been in the front area getting something to drink. It was easy to find a spot near the stage, much to their shared delight.

And, five minutes later, when the lights dimmed in the auditorium as they rose on the stage, and the Banshees stepped out to a sea of applause and the three hours of awesome, toe-tapping, head spinning music afterwards, Hermione was certain that everything was perfect. And in the end, she didn't mind that Draco was right there next to her, glancing over at her from time to time with a shocked sense of wonder.

Unfortunately, she did not notice the other eyes watching her from behind the curtain; eyes that were devoid of even the faintest hint of warmth.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** Just so you know, your comments give me strength and stamina! I just want to thank everyone who's put me on their favorite/follow lists and an extra awesome THANK YOU to those who have commented. It really helps motivate me to update more regularly because when I know others want to know what happens next, it makes me feel like I have a duty to give you what you crave (unless it's blood, for obvious reasons, lol). Oh, right, and for those of you who are wondering, this is not a Dramione story. You've been warned.

* * *

 **Chapter 6: The Bloody Bastard**

"Just scare her a little," Hyacinth said, rolling her eyes. His silence was beginning to irritate her. "I'm not expecting you to bite her or anything."

"I see. And what do I get in return?"

The second vampire was standing in the shadow outside of the circle of light that came from the stained glass lamp on the desk that Hyacinth was leaning back against, her expression bored.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" Hyacinth replied, her lip curling slightly. "Fine. You get free bloodletting privileges here for the next six months."

"Seven." Came the reply in a whispery soft voice.

"What was that?"

" _Seven_. Seven months, or I walk and everyone finds out that the little vampirette who runs her precious little nightclub all squeaky clean-like has been trying to commission less-than-kosher favors from her clientele."

Hyacinth's eyes narrowed. God, he was worse _now_ than he'd ever been before she'd Changed.

"Fine," she said flatly. "But _do_ remember that if you get us shut down, you're on your own when it comes to finding a regular food supply. Honestly, a vampire that shuns all those nice potential Rennies is asking for trouble."

"I'll be sure to take that under advisement," he replied sourly, stepping forward and extending a hand, his wrist encircled with a tiny sliver of white that disappeared under a thick, black woolen coat sleeve held tightly closed with a singular silver button.

She took his hand and shook it.

"There, the pact is sealed," she said. "Seven months of free access to the best blood supply north of Greenwich for scaring the hell out of one Hermione Granger."

"Don't worry," Severus Snape replied, bending forward into the light until the light and shadow fell upon his greasy hair and face in a manner that made him look most ghoulish indeed. "I assure you that I have quite a lot of... _experience_...in doing just that."

Hyacinth grinned widely, baring her fangs in a feral snarl and he mirrored her expression, his dark eyes narrowed in a calculating manner.

Though he could be an annoying, greasy git, Hyacinth did have to admit that Snape was incredibly frightening when he really put his mind to it, and that was exactly what she needed.

 _Enjoy your concert, you boyfriend-stealing, Gryffindor bitch, because the real show is about to start._

* * *

Pansy watched Hermione and Draco enjoying themselves at the concert from behind the curtain, her eyes burning with hate. Her sister had told her not to come, but Pansy couldn't help herself. It was like trying to ignore a mosquito bite. When she'd gotten them in the summertime, Pansy could never stop scratching until they were broken and bleeding and almost sure to leave a scar. And Draco had left quite a wound indeed with his thoughtless infatuation with Hermione Granger.

Hyacinth had remained infuriatingly tight-lipped about what she'd had in mind to punish Hermione, and so Pansy decided that she would go and see for herself exactly how it was all going to play out. She knew it wouldn't happen at the nightclub. There would be too many witnesses, and Hyacinth was far too careful and cunning to do something as stupid as that. Pansy was also incredibly curious as to whom had been contracted to punish that insufferable mudblood. She knew it couldn't be Lars or Hyacinth herself. The negative publicity aside, Pansy couldn't really see Lars humiliating anyone properly though he looked big and intimidating enough at first glance. And Hyacinth was far too finicky and proper to get her fangs dirty.

Being kept in the dark was really quite frustrating indeed. Pansy idly tucked her hand under her robes and onto the little hip sheath she'd taken to wearing, fingering the handle of the little silver dagger she kept there. She'd found the small, sharp implement in the rubble after the final battle when the Slytherin students had finally been released from the dungeons and told that they were to help move the biggest pieces of debris like common beasts of burden. It was quite pretty, with an engraved ivory handle featuring flowering ivy and an ornate _B_. She'd told no one about it, figuring that someone would simply lie about owning such a beautiful implement and take it from her whether or not it was actually theirs.

 _Finders keepers. Everyone knows that._

She smirked as she thought of her cleverness. Perhaps if Hyacinth's version of revenge was too tame for her liking, she could make an _impression_ of her own. The handle seemed to grow warm under her touch and she shuddered with a sick rush of pleasure at the thought of driving it into yielding flesh.

* * *

All told, the Wailing Banshees did five encores. Hermione's throat was raw from screaming with excitement and her palms ached from clapping, but she was so filled with happiness that she didn't even mind any of it. There was also a sore, pinchy spot one one side of her left foot that was sure to be a blister the following morning, but once again, she was so full of energy at being so close to her musical idols that it just didn't seem to matter at all. By the time they'd finally taken their bows and left the stage, Hermione felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut. A contented sense of sleepiness washed over her and she yawned hugely, stretching her arms above her head as she and Draco waited for the rest of the crowd to file out.

"So, what did you think?" Draco asked, grinning in a manner that suggested that Hermione hadn't been the only one who'd been over the moon at seeing her favorite performers live.

"It was...BOOM!" Hermione mimicked exploding fireworks with her hands. "Simply brilliant! They could come back and do five more encores and I'd stay right here and cheer them on until my throat was raw and bloody!"

"That's probably not a good idea, considering where we are," Draco replied with a smirk, "You know the owners are supposed to be vampires, right? I read in the _Prophet_ that they actually have a room in back where they serve a very different sort of liquid to their blood-sucking clientele."

Hermione shrugged. "Well, as long as they're getting permission, there's no problem."

Draco shuddered. "They call their voluntary blood sources 'Rennies'...that's just creepy as far as I'm concerned."

"Wow. Draco Malfoy creeped out," Hermione stated with a smirk. "Well, now I've seen everything."

"I _am_ human, you know," Draco replied, smirking back. "And speaking of my humanity, I'm parched. How about we go get something to drink before we head back?"

"I'm not much for drinking," Hermione replied, suddenly feeling a bit shy. After all, she'd told herself this wasn't a date, and it was becoming more date-like with every passing minute.

"That's fine, I'll just get you a butterbeer. My treat. C'mon, what do you say?" Draco said, holding his hands out as though to show that he was being harmless.

Hermione instinctively glanced at the arm that she knew harbored his faded Dark Mark and felt a stab of commiseration as she remembered that, in the end, he'd done all he had in the name of his love for his family. And while Hermione's parents would likely never be restored to the people they once were before, she could understand his instinctive need to care for those he loved.

Her cheeks flushed a little pink when she remembered his words earlier that afternoon:

" _...I need to know if what I'm feeling is real…"_

Oh _god_. He... _liked_ her? Draco sodding Malfoy had feelings... _romantic_ feelings...for her?

It was almost too surreal to believe, but as Hermione looked up at his curious grey eyes that crinkled around the edges as his smile reached them, she suddenly realized it was the _truth_.

She nodded silently.

"One butterbeer it is, then!" Draco said brightly, turning on his heel and sweeping back towards the curtain.

Hermione stood near the stage, watching the various people breaking down the equipment with a puzzled expression on her face as she tried to reason out the surreal situation that had just become horribly, uncomfortably real to her.

Her stomach growled horribly and she realized that a trip to the loo was probably in order, but she didn't know where it was. She turned around, looking for a sign that might point her in the correct direction.

"Oh, hello," she said politely to a dark haired witch in a very form-fitting dress, who had appeared, seemingly from nowhere and was moving the microphone stands. "Might you know where the ladies room is?"

"Oh, _yes_ ," the witch replied, her golden eyes shining. "Just through that curtain over there. I used it earlier."

Hermione looked at the wall indicated by the woman and saw that there was indeed the bottom of a green door sticking out from behind the curtains that had been drawn around the entire area.

"Thank you!" she said, and made her way over to it. Her focus on getting to the proper facilities was so great that she didn't notice that the helpful woman had melted into the shadows and disappeared.

Pulling the curtain back from the door, Hermione hesitated and wondered if she should wait for Draco to return first so that it didn't seem like she'd just disappeared. But then her stomach rumbled a second time and she realized that she couldn't wait after all.

Besides, she'd be quick.

She opened the door and saw that it was a small toilet area, with only two stalls and a big, stone sink with silver faucets spread out in a half circle. The room had a very Slytherin motif, as the stone was obviously jade of some sort and the silver faucets truncated in the heads of little snakes with their mouths open. There was even a framed Slytherin crest hanging on the wall. Though it was tiny and very ornate, Hermione was still reminded of another, less gaudy bathroom that hid the dwelling of a massive killer snake and she shuddered involuntarily.

In fact, it only took her a record thirty seconds to clear up the grumbling in her belly, which was easily fast enough to return before she'd been missed. But as she turned the tap on the stone sink, she only had a fraction of a second to realize that instead of water, a fine, green mist had begun spurting from the faucet before her eyes rolled up in their sockets and she fell to the floor, unconscious.

* * *

Draco returned with Hermione's butterbeer and his own cocktail after waiting for nearly a half hour in what he'd dubbed _the Line from Hell_. He frowned when he noticed a distinct lack of Hermione in the nearly vacant room.

"Oi!" he called out to a thick-set man in brown robes, who was pulling one of the larger harps off the stage.

"In a _minute_!" the man replied irritably as he hefted the massive instrument down the stairs that were set on the side of the stage.

Draco waited impatiently and nearly had to stop himself from tapping his foot.

Finally, the man had finished dragging it to the floor and he turned to look at Draco, sweat beading at his brow as he caught his breath.

"Can you tell me if you saw the girl with long curly hair and a black dress who was with me earlier? Do you know where she went?" he asked.

"Dunno," the man grunted, shrugging as he wiped the sweat on his forehead away with a checkered handkerchief. "I jus' move the harps."

"Well, _that_ was helpful," Draco muttered sarcastically as the man resumed his onerous task.

"Might I suggest going back into the front parlor?" a woman's voice asked, and Draco nearly jumped in surprise, his cocktail sloshing dangerously to one side.

"Where did you-!?" he exclaimed, turning with a start as he saw the dark haired woman with golden eyes in the rather fetching dress standing to his left. Something about her seemed familiar, though he knew for a fact that he'd never met her before.

"It's so loud and lonely in here," she said, her voice growing oddly hypnotic. "You really ought to go mingle where the others are enjoying themselves."

Draco's eyes began to glaze over and he nodded slightly.

"Yes," he said distractedly, "Mingle. Enjoy...you're absolutely right."

He turned a little unsteadily and started back the way he'd come with an odd feeling in the back of his head that he'd forgotten something important, but he couldn't remember for the life of him exactly what it was.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Oh noes! Hermione has been incapacitated! Draco has been mind controlled! Pansy has a knife! WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT?!

Well, it wouldn't be fun if I just told you here, now would it? This chapter may be a bit racy and stuff, but it's not going to be full-on sexytimes, so don't worry, I won't be using my ;) face yet.

...But don't worry...I plan on it….eventually….ehehehehe….

* * *

 **Chapter 7: The Best Laid Plans of Vamps and Villains**

Severus Snape watched Hyacinth leading Draco away from behind the stage. He had to admit, she was smooth, even for a vampire. He knew he had the same ability to roll minds as others of his kind, but she'd been so subtle that it would be incredibly unlikely that Draco would even remember anything had been amiss.

He noticed with a bit of a scowl that Draco had been carrying two drinks. It didn't take much deduction to puzzle out the reason he'd been called upon to scare the daylights out of Hermione Granger. Most people didn't put two and two together, but Severus had taught Hyacinth back when she was still a Parkinson and besides, anyone with half a brain could see that she shared her younger sister's nose, jaw shape and hair.

Unfortunately, in his experience, it was ambitious to expect most people to use even a quarter of their total gray matter, so it was unsurprising that no one else seemed to see the bigger picture.

He had to hand it to Pansy, though, she worked fast. News of her break up with Draco had only just begun to circulate through the castle corridors and already she'd planned exactly to punish her potential replacement.

Well, not exactly, per se, but it was rather Slytherin indeed to have someone else handle the details and the dirty work so that the blame wouldn't stick if it ever got back to her.

And he knew he couldn't even overtly punish her for it due to his involvement, which was quite likely why Hyacinth had asked him in the first place. She knew he was always up for a fair trade in lieu of money, and he'd gotten _quite_ a fair trade indeed.

Still, he was a Slytherin as well, and he knew that if he merely paid attention, Pansy would do something eventually that he could easily justify as a reason for assigning a particularly nasty detention.

Severus Snape was nothing if not inventive, after all.

But that didn't matter now. Though he'd never admit it, he'd have done it for free if Hyacinth had really pressed him. After all, it wasn't often that he got the chance to needle one of the three people who'd had the chance to help him before he'd sunken into the coma-like regeneration state that had lasted nearly a week...but had instead abandoned him to die. Potter and Weasley weren't exactly the sharpest tools in the shed, but Hermione...she hadn't even checked for his pulse or cast a simple Vitals charm. Such thoughtless behavior smacked of willful negligence and it had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Of the three, Hermione had seemed to be the most thoughtful and intelligent, not to mention caring. She may not have noticed, but he'd seen her defend him plenty of times when she'd not known he was there. That she'd been willing to leave him for dead without even a second look hurt him far more than he thought it should have.

He'd been lucky that the Shrieking Shack had not caught fire in the fighting that had broken out and that it had been already boarded up so securely that not one stray beam of sunlight broke through its interior, or he'd have turned to ash long before his shredded throat could reform.

The worst of it was that she knew that she'd made a mistake, but instead of getting over it or giving him a damn apology and being done with it, she had to drag it out with hangdog looks in the halls and guilty little stares from the back of his class.

Such belated concern irritated him to no end, though he could not say why.

He slid behind the curtain that covered the women's loo and stilled his chest before opening the door a mere crack. He slid his wand inside and cast a purification charm, dispelling the greenish mist that had filled the room. The Slumbersand Gas would give him enough time to grab Hermione and move under cover of darkness to the place he'd set as the stage for his little fright fest.

And, anyway, his own personal grudge aside, who _wouldn't_ enjoy getting a rise out of the resident brains of the so-called Golden Trio? He'd see how strong her Gryffindor courage really was without her little friends around to offer comedic relief.

 _But first thing's first._

He bent over and cursed as his back made a horrible cracking noise. Gathering an unconscious dead-weight Hermione up in his arms had sounded easier in his head than it actually was, though, once he got her gathered up, the only real challenge was getting back to standing without tipping over. For such a petite witch, she was certainly quite _substantial_. He tried not to think about the firmness of her thigh against his waist or the tight muscles in her arm as he gathered her close to his body to make it easier to carry her. Standing up as straight as he could, he cast a Disillusionment spell over them both. Stealing a glance through the crack in the door, his keen eyes could see at once that the roadies had finally finished packing everything up. Luckily, they'd left the back doors behind the stage fully open to the darkness beyond.

Pulling the door open with one foot, Severus pressed against the wall chancing a last look around to ensure the coast was clear and finally ducked around the curtain into the open space, moving quickly and silently towards the open rectangle of night behind the stage area.

He was so focused on making certain he did not drop the unconscious girl in his arms, that he did not see a shadow moving to follow him.

* * *

Hermione woke with a start on the floor. The dust and scent of decaying molding fabric hit her nose with full force and she shot up to a sitting position, clasping her hands around her shoulders though she wasn't cold. She sneezed loudly and shook her head from side to side, feeling dust falling away from her hair and clothing. Looking wildly around at her surroundings, she knew immediately that she was no longer in the nightclub and as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she gulped with uneasiness.

She knew where she was.

 _No...it's not….it's not possible._

" _Hello_?" she said, her voice quivering a little as she stood.

She felt up her sleeve with her opposite hand and her eyes went wide with shock.

Her wand was _gone_.

Suddenly, she began to feel very uneasy indeed. Her hair crackled with tiny forks of bluish static as unfocused power flared around her. Casting spells without a wand would be difficult, but Hermione knew that she could catch an opponent off guard or injure them if needed, and as long as she could get away, that would be enough.

She only hoped that her wand was still in once piece. It had weathered the War, and in some ways, it was a natural extension of herself. To lose it would be like having an arm sliced away from her shoulder.

A small flare of anger filled her belly as she imagined someone else's grimy hands on her wand.

They were going to be sorry for messing with Hermione Granger.

Hiking up her dress on one side, Hermione felt for the little beaded handbag that she'd tied through the waistband and right leg of her knickers. She'd got tired of having to balance it on her shoulder while jumping up and down during the concert, so in the darkened room under the strobing lights she'd tied it there instead, where it had rested comfortably against her thigh.

She smiled, remembering Draco's blush as he noticed what she was doing. They were just plain black cotton knickers that completely covered everything, after all. At the time, she hadn't mind all that much that he'd seen, though to her immense relief, he didn't take it as a sign to get fresh with her. Hermione was not particularly experienced with anyone being sexually untoward, so the thought that anyone would dare, much less want to, was the furthest thing from her mind. As far as she was concerned, her underthings weren't anything special, and neither was she.

If only she'd known, at least as far as Draco was concerned, that she'd been absolutely wrong on that last point.

A scratching noise, like the tiny scaled feet of rats skittering across the floorboards, echoed from deeper within the Shack and brought her back to her current windless situation. Hermione shuddered as she remembered a particular rat that had turned out to be just as horrid as a human being. But he, like so many others, was long dead, lost to the War. She dug in her bag, cursing at how difficult it was to find anything without being able to call it to her with her wand, but finally located what she was looking for with a tiny squeak of happiness.

She tossed the tiny lantern burning with eternal blue fire into the air where it bobbed and hovered over her head. She'd figured out how to make the fire burn inside of the lantern without burning anything else and had kept one in her handbag after she'd had to share her wand with Harry and did not always have access to its power. It was spelled to hang in the air near the person who first touched it, though she could throw it at an enemy and it would float around them, making them a better target.

With the lantern casting a friendly glow above her, she pulled out a roll of parchment onto the floor and then set out a number of little vials with various labels on them. Frowning as she brought the light to each label, she finally settled on three and put the others back.

Tucking two into her bra, not caring that they made her front look lumpy, Hermione held the third firmly in her hand and summoned her courage.

" _Hey_!" She shouted into the gloom, screwing her eyebrows into a scowl. " _You_! Shite for brains! Come out and face me, you _coward_!"

Hermione felt a little uncomfortable swearing out of the blue like that, but Ron had been a bad influence in that regard and, besides, while she still felt a little off kilter, she was also well and truly pissed off. She _knew_ she wasn't alone, though she still couldn't see or hear any sign of another presence. Hermione couldn't cast _Homenum revelio_ without her wand, but she highly doubted that anyone would go through the trouble of knocking her out and abducting her just to ruin her dress by leaving her on a dusty floor. Whoever had left her there had either left to get something and hadn't returned or was waiting somewhere to spring whatever dastardly trap they had prepared for her. Glancing over at a lumpy shape in the corner that was probably a molded and discarded mattress, Hermione shuddered when she thought of the possibilities.

The house groaned sharply as it shifted on its foundation, but otherwise all was silent. Hermione steeled herself and began to push forward, cautiously looking around and feeling with her foot for the trapdoor to see if she could find a way to escape.

But after taking a second pass around the room, she realized that it was somewhat different than the one that held the trapdoor out to the Whomping Willow.

And though there was still the problem is getting past that murderous tree without a wand, Hermione figured that she'd rather face another run-in with the Willow's menacing foliage than an unknown assailant who obviously had no qualms with kidnapping.

Still, the signs that Professor Lupin had transformed in the Shack for years were readily apparent, and the violence his werewolf form had wrought at various ages were plain to see. As Hermione brought her lantern closer to the wall with one hand, she could see deep gouges in the faded floral wallpaper where massive claws had torn and shredded the material and embedded their marks into the wood underneath. The markings were at different heights and sizes as she continued cautiously through the door and out into the hall. Hermione felt a stab of sympathy for poor, kindly Remus Lupin and little Teddy, the son who would never know his parents.

For, just like the other Marauders, and countless others on either side of the struggle, Lupin had given his life in the conflict between the Light and Dark.

Her thoughts hardened her resolve to escape from her unknown kidnapper, who had still not shown up, though she'd definitely been loud enough as she stumbled and tripped over debris. Even with the little floating lantern, the long shadows and dark corners pressed in around her as though threatening to siphon the glow of the tiny blue flame to nothingness.

Hermione gripped the vial in her hand more tightly than before and set her jaw to keep it from quivering.

She'd fought and survived a war, after all.

 _So why am I so terrified?_

* * *

Severus Snape could smell Hermione long before she came close enough for him to see her, which he could easily do using his enhanced vampiric vision. He hated how delicious she smelled, like honey and steak and something unidentifiable that made his mind sing. His fangs slid over his bottom lip part way and he stifled a groan. Being too close to her for the short distance between the nightclub and the Shrieking Shack had provoked something dangerous within him. He hadn't fed that night, but that was not unusual. After all, he only normally needed to feed once every twenty-four to forty-eight hours before the Need became excruciating, and he'd fed early that morning.

But Hermione, he'd learned the hard way, was anything but usual.

As he'd sped Disillusioned through town with her nestled against his chest, her heart beating against his hollow silent chest, that maddening scent that had always mingled with the other unwashed students in his classes (or had been overpowered by the fumes in Potions class) had filled his nose in all of its concentrated glory. Without consciously intending to do so, his fangs had extended to their full length and in a daze he'd nearly dipped his head and brought his mouth to the pulse point that lay under those long chestnut snarls of hair.

 _No. No, this isn't right!_

His rational mind had finally snapped him out of the nearly trance-like motion he'd fallen into. He'd frozen, the tips of his fangs mere millimetres from Hermione's soft, warm skin and jerked his head up straight, feeling instantly horrible for his moment of weakness.

No, he couldn't trust himself, not this close to her. He needed to put space between them before his resolve broke.

 _But why does she smell so damn amazing?_

Begrudgingly, he'd placed her gently on the floor of the front room. He wasn't trying to cause her physical harm, after all. He just needed to scare the daylights out of her per the contract. When she awoke, he told himself, she'd stumble around in the dark, work herself up into a hysterical mess until she was seeing things and jumping at every creak and rustle. And eventually, she'd find her way back to the room where he was hiding in the deepest shadows. The room with the trapdoor, which was one of the only remaining entrances or exits to the shack, as it had been overlooked when they'd heavily warded the entrance. Where he'd bled out. He could still smell the remnants of his old, dried blood from where it had seeped into the wood.

And then... _well_...he'd terrify her so badly that she'd never be able to think of Draco Malfoy without feeling an accompanying surge of fear.

It was the perfect plan.

His rational mind in control again, Severus smirked as he thought of the best way to make her mind go blank with terror once she finally found the correct room. She wasn't stupid, after all. Hermione would come. She'd be afraid, sure, but she wouldn't lie on the floor in a quivering mess the way that many others would likely do in a similar situation, even though the Shack was admittedly creepy as hell _and_ he'd taken her wand.

Taking her wand had been necessary, though. He didn't want to risk being hexed to smithereens if his plans backfired on him, after all.

And he'd had plenty of experience with meddlesome Gryffindors to admit that this was always a possibility.

He cleared his mind, preparing for Hermione's entrance, his eyes growing cold and narrow and horribly blank. He swore to himself that he would keep his distance and resolved not to show such weakness towards his Need again. The thought of taking unwilling blood made his stomach churn, though a tiny, dark part of his mind had no qualms whatsoever as long as the Need was satisfied. He shook his head and tried to focus on the fun that was about to start.

He was almost eighty percent sure that he was going to enjoy this very, very much.

* * *

Hermione thought about her kidnapper as she navigated around the debris and loose boards in the surprisingly long hallway. She peered in a room from time to time, but other than an empty larder and a loo with a stained tub and a thin broken pipe sticking out the floor where the toilet had obviously been, she hadn't yet found the room she was looking for.

So her mind strayed to puzzling out what she knew about her adversary. As moments passed, Hermione was more and more certain that she was less of a victim and more of an opponent on equal footing, though it still galled her that her wand had been confiscated. Casting a Tempus charm was impossible, but she'd taken her father's muggle pocketwatch from the handbag- the one that she wound manually every day out of habit and therefore did not seem to be affected by close proximity to magic-had revealed that not a lot of time had passed from the end of the concert, which meant that whoever had brought her there was strong, most likely a man. And she was fairly certain that he was alone. Groups of bad guys tended to be loud and sloppy. That also lowered the chances of having to face down a large magical creature, such as a minotaur or troll, as subtlety was beyond them, and she would have already been alerted to their presence.

And oddly enough, other than the gas that had knocked her out, Hermione had not been harmed at all. So whoever had taken her obviously did not want to hurt her, and he obviously knew she was good with her wand, as it had been taken. This suggested that she knew him somehow, though that didn't whittle down the possible suspect list, seeing as she _was_ a war hero. The fact that he'd forgotten to check under her skirt where her handbag had been hidden suggested that he was courteous enough not to take advantage and cop a feel when she was incapacitated, either.

It was odd to think of a criminal as a gentleman, but Hermione had to admit that it fit.

Her musings were interrupted as she reached the door at the end of the hall. It was open slightly, and she began to feel a choking sense of dread that whispered against her temples and traveled down her throat until she gasped involuntarily just as she touched the doorknob.

This was.. _.the room_.

Where she'd _left_ him without more than a fleeting backward glance. Where he'd been abandoned. It was as though the air in the room had turned to smoke and she struggled to breathe, her heart beating wildly as a serpentine whisper seemed to invade her head.

 _ **You left me.**_

The voice was harsh, accusatory. She knew she was just imagining it, but it felt like red, glowing eyes were staring at her from all sides.

Still, she pressed on. The trapdoor was her only escape. She had to get there...she had to…

 _ **You didn't care if I lived or died!**_

"No! I-!" she choked out a small sob as she clasped a hand over her mouth. She could feel tears pouring from her eyes, though she didn't remember crying. The room seemed to breathe with her, growing wider and then narrower, its gloom oppressive like a living thing, pressing against her until she couldn't breathe.

 _No. Wait. Something isn't right._

It was far more subtle than what Bellatrix had done to her when she'd been tortured for information on the Sword of Gryffindor, but it felt... _familiar_ somehow.

And then she _knew_.

Two massive coal black snakes were slithering through the air in massive wisps of smoke, their eyes glowing murderously as they whispered horrible things. She should have shrunk away with terror when they bared their fangs and prepared to strike at her throat, but instead, she stood perfectly still and closed her eyes.

Unlike Harry, Hermione had never taken Occlumency lessons. There were very few practicing Legilimens in Wizarding Britain and even fewer offered lessons in how to master it. But she'd read about it, especially when Harry had (unsurprisingly) been pants at the entire thing.

The best way to free oneself was to break eye contact. If one was unable to do that, then focusing and pushing the influence of the Legilimens from one's mind could work in a pinch, though it required a strong will to fully repel the influence upon the mind.

And in that moment, Hermione's will was ironclad.

She was free in a trice; the accusing eyes, snakes and fear vanishing like the illusions they were, leaving only one pair of very real glowing eyes in the corner.

 _I seeeeee youuuu._

Raising her hand, she called the floating lantern to her hand and flung it with surprising speed in the direction of the glowing eyes, which widened in utter bafflement even as she did it. Then, clasping her hands together with a rather unladylike grunt, she unstoppered the bottle and flung the contents at her opponent, feeling rather gratified when the liquid sprouted into massive vines that encircled him in the flickering light, taking root into the floorboards so that he was stuck fast. He let out a shout filled with fury and surprise as his arms were strapped to his sides and the tendrils thickened and squeezed. His head was thrown back exposing his deathly pale throat as the vine encircled the skin of his neck and pressed firmly under his chin, holding it but not squeezing unless he struggled. There was a flash of white as fangs slipped from his mouth and Hermione gasped, shoving her free hand into the front of her dress for the smaller of the remaining two bottles. Choosing that last one had been a stab in the dark based on something Draco had told her earlier before all that had happened, but somehow she'd been right.

 _Maybe Draco was right about vampires._

Feeling for the rectangular vial, she unstoppered it and approached the struggling vampire, who seemed to realize that fighting was making things worse. Going against his instinctive urge to struggle, he went deathly still, though she could see the tendons in his neck pulsing as he held himself at the mercy of the vines.

Hermione stopped several feet away from him and unstoppered the bottle, lifting it up so that he could get a whiff. She'd never been so close to a vampire before, and his dark robes reminded her of someone that both Harry and Ron had accused multiple times of being a vampire due to his macabre sense of fashion.

But they'd all seen him walking around during the day without bursting into flames, so it hadn't been a very good rumor in the end.

He snarled like a feral animal at the scent of the contents of the tiny bottle, but the back of his throat held the tiniest of whimpers. He knew she had him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Hermione had all manner of questions buzzing around in her head, but there was one little detail she needed to take care of before all others.

"Where. Is. My. WAND!" she growled, her eyes full of righteous fury.

A strangled noise emanated from his mouth that she took to mean _no_.

"I'm not going to hurt you unless you try anything funny," Hermione growled, "Perhaps you should have thought of the consequences first before abducting someone who has been through far worse than this."

Suddenly, he seemed to forget that struggling was a bad idea and his hands clenched, struggling to raise his arm, which she suddenly noticed still held his wand. Gasping noises emanated from his mouth and Hermione made out "-hind yuh," before a sharp pain blasted her in the middle of her back and she crumpled to the floor, the bottle of garlic extract she'd been holding spilling harmlessly against the floorboards.

The only thing she could think before she fell into darkness was that she greatly regretted having ruled out the possibility of more than one kidnapper.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** ;) (I told you I would be using it!)

This chapter is likely to be violent, bloody and have some semi-sexual stuff in it. So please proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such things.

Though, I must question your judgement if you're reading a vampire story and not expecting them. Ehehehehe…

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Love Bites / Lust Bleeds**

Severus awoke with an uneasy feeling of deja vu. He was lying on his back with his wrists over his head. Something cold and metal was pressing into his skin and he tilted his head up to see what it was.

 _Shackles. Great. With my luck, they're probably silver, which means I won't be able to break them._

He moved his feet slightly and felt the same cold metallic resistance against his feet.

 _Shit_.

And then he remembered.

 _Pansy_.

His lip curled back in a silent snarl as he summoned all his strength and pulled against his bonds until he realized it was doing him no favors before relaxing once more. Turning his head, he could see that he was still in the Shack, only this seemed to be one of the upstairs rooms. Pansy had tethered him to an old, ancient dusty bed frame somehow, and for a split second he wondered exactly how she'd gotten the strength to drag him upstairs before he realized that this was not what he should be thinking about.

 _Escape, escape...where...ah!_

His mind whirred with possibilities as he looked to his right and saw Hermione's still form lying on her side with her hands bound at the wrists behind her back. He could smell her as though she were lying on top of him with her hair in his face. His face grew hot and he growled quietly despite himself.

Shit. He had to control himself.

"Her-mione," he rasped, hating how pathetic he sounded.

Hermione groaned quietly, but she didn't move.

Severus was surprised at the vitriol that her tiny movement awakened inside of him.

 _Damn. What did that bitch do to her?_

Speaking of that _bitch_ , he didn't see _her_ anywhere. He couldn't see daylight, which was heartening, but he still had no way of knowing how long he'd been out.

And he was so, _so_ thirsty.

"Hermione," he tried again, his voice a breathless whisper.

"Nghhh," she moaned again, unconsciously stretching out her legs.

His heart leapt in his chest when he realized that her ankles were not bound.

"Come on, Hermione, _please_ ," he said, his voice as even and calm as he could make it. "You need to get up. She could be back at any moment."

Hermione mumbled something unintelligible and tried to move her wrists, struggling wildly when she found they were bound behind her.

" _Shhh_!" he said, a bit more harshly than he had intended, and she froze, turning her head to look in his direction. Her mouth was covered with a gag. No wonder she couldn't answer him properly. And Pansy had hit her square in the back with that stunner.

His eyes narrowed as he thought of what implement _he'd_ like to use on Pansy's back.

He could see how wide and frightful Hermione's eyes were with his night vision. But even if he hadn't been using it, he could smell it. She was _terrified_. She seemed to sense that this was different than before. And for all he knew, both of them were in very real danger.

And the worst part was that it was all his fault.

"Hermione, I need you to get to your feet and come over to me," he said, using the same even, cool voice, as though he were instructing her on potion brewing steps and not entreating her to come to him so they could escape. "I can tear your bonds and then you can take the gag off. Does that sound agreeable to you?"

Hermione nodded softly from the floor and tried to pull herself up to a sitting position, which was more difficult than it looked without her hands free. She ended up rolling on her side and then rolling to her stomach first until she looked a bit like an inchworm before pulling herself onto her knees. Then it was just a matter of pulling one foot under her and then another before she was finally standing and walking towards him. Though she obviously didn't have the same abilities as he did, Hermione had good enough eyesight that she seemed to be able to make out his form in the gloom.

"Come closer to the head of the bed," he urged, "If you can get your wrist bonds over to where my hands are shackled, I'll be able to undo the knot."

She held her hands out and backed up until she could feel the mattress against her fingers. Then she side-stepped towards the head of the bed as he encouraged her onward until her wrists had bumped against the side of the headboard.

She sat down inches from his face and he was immediately flooded with her intoxicating scent. His fangs slid partway out, protruding slightly from his lips and he was thankful for the darkness.

He concentrated and under her natural cloying scent, he could smell fear and sweat and a small amount of blood on her, but other than that, Hermione seemed to be fine, and he was thankful she hadn't been harmed.

He tried not to think of how creepy it was of him to have begun fixating on her simply because she smelled like the most delicious thing in the universe.

She bent back until his slim fingers found the knot on her bonds and he began pulling at it, trying to loosen the ties so that Hermione could escape them.

But just as it seemed he was about to get the knot undone, the door flew open with a bang.

"Oh, getting busy without me, are you? We can't have that, now can we?" Pansy's wand was out with a flash and Hermione went flying against the wall. She curled up in a ball and shook with quiet sobs as she hit the ground with a sickening thud.

Severus pulled angrily against his bonds in vain.

"Oh, didn't like that, did you, _Professor_?" Pansy said as she held up the brightly glowing tip of her wand, her face screwed up in a horrid smirk that made her look like one of those ugly pug-nosed dogs. "But then again, I have a number of things planned for you and the little mudblood that I am fairly certain you both will not like."

"Let. Me. Go. Parkinson." he growled, lifting his chest off of the bed as the bonds held him tightly.

"Oh, I'm _so_ scared!" Pansy laughed shrilly. "What, are you going to _tell_ on me? What's everyone going to think when they hear that you're a _vampire_ , eh, Snape? Isn't there a law against vampires teaching minors? You're looking at time in Azkaban for that alone!"

It was true. The Ministry had been deluged by Very Concerned parents after Professor Lupin had been discovered to be a werewolf. A few months later, legislation clarifying that vampires and werewolves could not teach at schools where minors were enrolled passed through the Wizengamot with zero opposition. The punishment for doing so was punishable by three years in Azkaban and a permanent mark on one's record that would require them to register as a Malicious Offender for the duration of their natural lives.

And vampires had very, very long lives indeed.

"I ask again," Severus replied coldly, trying to keep his voice even, "Remove. These. Shackles."

"Not until I get what I want," Pansy replied flippantly, approaching the bed. "And you should know by now, Professor. I always get what I want. _Always_."

He tried to lunge toward her with his fangs extended, but she merely hopped back nimbly and tittered excitedly.

"You know, I have to thank you and Hyacinth for helping me come up with this, because I'm certain I never would have come up with it on my own," Pansy continued, as though she'd been asked. "You see, I know about your ability to bend humans to your will, to use that pheromone stuff on your fangs to provoke intense love in those you bite."

"It's not love," Severus muttered darkly, "It's not real."

"Let's agree to disagree," Pansy replied, bending down with a necklace of garlic in her hands.

Severus hissed and spat at her, but she merely giggled as the necklace fell around his neck and he felt as though a massive weight had descended upon his body. There were a myriad of reasons that had been hypothesized as to why garlic affected vampires in such an extreme manner. The extract was deadly if ingested and burned more terribly than sunlight when it touched his skin. The bulbs themselves itched where they touched his skin but thankfully did not do much else beyond sapping his supernatural strength.

"Now, then," she said, approaching him again and pulling a small knife from under her robes.

He started. He _knew_ that knife.

"How did you come into possession of _that_?" he snarled weakly.

"Oh, this old thing?" Pansy replied, stroking the handle, "Why, it's just a little souvenir from the so-called Final Battle of Hogwarts. You remember that, don't you? Oh right, you were too busy being a coward. That's what _everyone_ says, you know. That you ran away to save yourself while the Dark Lord fought his final battle and then befuddled Potter into thinking that you were better than you are."

"I did no such thing!" he hissed angrily, struggling weakly as she sat down on the bed and turned toward him.

"This is going to hurt you more than it hurts me," she said with a horrible smirk, driving the knife into his forearm.

He screamed throatily at the sudden red-hot pain where the knife had entered.

She made a disappointed noise as she ran her finger against the wound.

"Why aren't you bleeding?" she asked him, her voice full of annoyance.

It was then that he knew what she was trying to do.

"You can't…." he gasped. "I won't let you…"

"Ah, but I don't think you're going to have much of a choice in the matter," Pansy replied, driving the knife into his wrist and bringing the lighted tip of her wand to it eagerly. But after several moments of nothing, her mouth turned down quickly in disappointment.

And then, suddenly, she seemed to understand.

"You haven't eaten recently enough, have you?" she asked cruelly. "Well, then, I think we can remedy that easily enough."

She pointed her wand at Hermione, levitating the girl easily towards them. Hermione was still sniffling loudly, her breath ragged as though the wind had been knocked out of her.

"Come on, then, _Professor_ ," Pansy said in a sing-song voice, "Look how _tasty_ she is. Don't you feel a little peckish?"

" _No_! I...you can't make me!" Severus cried, shaking his head from side to side adamantly.

"Fine. Be like that," Pansy said angrily. "I'll just have to force the issue."

Pansy drew the knife again and slid it across Hermione's arm, tearing through the sleeve of her dress and into the flesh below. She shrieked loudly in pain, though it was somewhat muffled behind the gag.

The blood welled up in the wound and Severus could feel his pupils blowing wide, his Need roaring to life like a massive force of nature that could not be denied.

"No….no….." he gasped, his fangs sliding out until they were fully extended.

"There's a good vampire," Pansy said, smirking as she pulled Hermione's bleeding arm to his mouth.

The moment a drop of her blood hit his tongue like a maddening ambrosia, he was lost. His conscious mind disappeared and his Need was all that was left.

And even as he latched onto Hermione's arm, his fangs sliding into the wound, the tiny part of him that was still left as the Need took control hated himself just a little bit more as each second passed and Hermione's moans of pain slowly turned to those of pleasure.

"And when you're all done with her," Pansy said as she licked the blade of the knife clean, her mouth twisted up like a gash in the half-light, "You'll be ready to give me the Gift. Whether you want to or not."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note:** **WARNING ;) times ahead!** I think, if you squint and have a very good imagination, this chapter is rated about R for sexytimes stuff. I'm not going to get NC-17 until maybe a bit later (Next chapter, anyone? Fade to black just a little too much of a cop-out for your tastes? Let me know in the comments!). I must admit, the struggle between what one wants and what is right is often daunting. But when they line up? Well, that's when the magic happens.

Also, Pansy gets some comeuppance. Literally. Ehehehehe.

* * *

 **Chapter 9: Becoming a Vampire in Three Easy Steps**

Pansy had read a lot about vampires when she'd learned about her sister's existence. Well, she'd read the parts that seemed useful to her, anyway. It wasn't as though she'd ever be tested on vampires. They'd already covered that in fifth year. Ostensibly, from her track record at Hogwarts, Hyacinth was no dummy, so Pansy had been intrigued. Eternal youth and power beyond that of even a fairly powerful wixen seemed an adequate trade for having to feed on the blood of others for the rest of one's existence. And everyone knew that even Voldemort had considered becoming a vampire. He might have gone through with it had he not learned of other methods that could grant true immortality.

Still, Pansy had never wanted the Gift, even if her sister had offered (which she hadn't). But now... _now_ things were different.

For she'd seen the look on Draco's face under the influence of her sister's power. He'd smiled dreamily at her when she'd approached him and told him it was thoughtful of him to buy her a drink, though she hated the taste of butterbeer. He'd even let her kiss him on the cheek before she realized that she had distracted herself from her vigil and hastily excused herself.

She knew that Draco would never have allowed her to get away with pressing her lips against him again after those nasty things she'd said to him about Hermione. He was perfect, practically hers, and he hadn't even been fully rolled.

And suddenly, drinking blood and an inconvenient allergy to sunlight didn't seem nearly as big a drawback as it had before.

He would be the perfect Rennie. He would belong to her. Forever.

Whether he wanted to or not.

* * *

The hungry, wet noises that Severus made as he fed echoed off of the walls of the dusty, decrepit room. Hermione writhed and moaned against his fangs, her arms nearly dislocating in their bonds as she pressed back against him. The air was thick with the smell of blood as Pansy left the room, looking rather ill. She had obviously never seen a hungry vampire feeding firsthand.

The moment the door closed behind her, Severus pulled back, his eyes going hard and focused once more. He was impressed. Hermione's blood had been so potent that he'd only been unaware of his actions for a few minutes before the control had fallen back into place. But with Pansy sitting there inches away with Bellatrix Lestrange's knife in her hand, he didn't want to take any chances that she might decide to start cutting at his flesh again and resume her sickening plan.

Besides, there was still the problem of the garlic around his neck and the silver chains that held him fast to the bed.

Where the devil had Pansy gotten silver manacles so quickly? And how had she gotten past his wards? These questions bothered him deeply, but he pushed them to the back of his mind for the time being. There would be time to ponder these things later. There would be time to feel horrible about what he'd done as well, and as he thought of having fed on Hermione without her consent, he tried not to fall into the yawning maw of despair that always seemed to be a step behind him.

First, they needed to escape.

He hadn't wanted to jeopardize his chance to get away and had done his part to make the feed look as horrifying as possible in the hopes of repulsing Pansy enough to force her out of the room. His ruse had worked and as he gnawed against Hermione's bonds, he kept one eye on the door to check for the returning heat signature of their captor.

Finally, the rope snapped and went loose, dropping into the mattress like a dead snake. Hermione moaned sharply, though it was hard to say if it was with relief or pain. He looked at her, his eyes filled with an unreadable emotion.

"Hermione."

Now, somehow, he couldn't stop calling her by her first name, though he'd never had a problem before. There were some things that, once shared, changed everything.

Even though none of it had happened the way it should.

When all of this was over, he knew that she would hate him. Somehow that made it all the more horrible. For he felt something beating in his chest that had nothing to do with blood and tissue and everything to do with a growing sense of _needing_ her by his side.

 _Godammit. It's like Lily all over again._

But he could no more control his heart than he could control his Need. And as she turned and stared down at him with eyes filled with the liquid desire that dripped venomously from his fangs and was at that moment circulating in her body like a narcotic, he realized that even if it was all pretend and she hated him until the end her days, he would always remember the way she'd looked at him in that moment.

He hated himself for loving it so much.

" _Severus_ ," she breathed, her chest heaving slightly as she took in the sight of him in the gloom.

He stiffened for a moment, wondering where she'd learned his first name, but then felt silly for having done so. After all, even while under the influence of his bite, Hermione was still a consummate know-it-all.

"The garlic," he replied thickly, "Please. It weakens me."

Hermione's eyes went murderous for a moment and he wondered if she'd somehow shrugged off his influence and was about to strike him. It didn't seem possible, as the effects of a vampire bite as deep as hers normally lasted at _least_ forty-eight hours.

But the anger in her eyes was not for him, as he watched her grasp the ring of white bulbs and throw them violently against the far wall.

"Thank yo-" He was cut off mid-word as Hermione suddenly sank down onto him and pressed her lips against his, her eyes half-lidded with pleasure.

He struggled weakly against her, but between the lingering effects of the garlic and the chains that bound him, there was little he could do.

And while he knew it was horribly wrong, he couldn't deny that the taste and scent of her was maddeningly pleasurable. Her kiss filled his head with a pulsating crimson light until he felt that he could bear it no longer. A whimper caught in his throat as she slid her hand down the hard line of his jaw and stroked the side of his face tenderly, tipping his chin slightly to the side so that his face was at a better angle to press against her own. She slid her tongue past his lips with a soft happy sound that made him quiver against her. It was only when he felt her weight settle upon him that he realized she was shaking rather noticeably.

Switching his vision instinctively, he stared at her outline and his voice caught in his throat. Instead of the bright red blood that should have arced through her body, she was a sickly pink hue, her blood levels dangerously depleted.

And it was all his fault. How could he have done such a thing to her?

His mind raced and he suddenly remembered the vial of Tanglethorn Potion that Hermione had thrown at him earlier.

She was slumped across him now, her weight growing heavier as she feebly kissed against his cheeks and neck.

At this rate, he knew that she would go into shock and possibly die. It was a long shot, but he had to ask.

"Hermione! _Look_ at me!" he hissed, trying to maintain her attention as her eyes drooped sleepily.

"Mmhmm?" she replied lazily, smiling drowsily.

"Hermione, I need you to focus," he continued, his voice stern. "Do you have any other potions on your person?"

"I'm _your_ person!" Hermione replied dazedly as she nuzzled against his chest. Her eyes were nearly closed now.

"No! I meant the potion that you flung at me. You had garlic extract as well. I find it hard to believe that you just happen to carry those two items around all the time on the off chance that you encounter a vampire in need of restraint."

"That was _you_ , _Severus_?" she sighed, her voice hopeful, "Will you bite me again? It was _heavenly_."

"That's _not_ what I was referring to!" he blustered as she traced his thin lips with her finger.

"You wanna see it?" she breathed.

"Yes, I want to bloody well see it! Our very lives depend on us getting free of this damnable place! Not to mention that you're dangerously low on blood and I'm hogtied to the bed frame with _silver_!"

She seemed to brighten a bit at his outburst and shifted slightly, turning around so that she was straddling him backwards, her shapely arse now nearly pressing against his face.

"What are you-?!" he demanded, going silent as she pulled up her skirt on one side and he finally saw what she had meant.

Hanging flush with her hip, a small beaded handbag was tied through her cotton panties between the waistband and the leg. How had he missed that? For once, he was thankful he'd made such a grievous error.

Though, to be fair, if he hadn't, he wouldn't have been incapacitated enough to be captured by Pansy-sodding-Parkinson.

And neither of them would have been in this situation at all if he'd just learned to stop accepting proposals that seemed too good to be true.

"You're almost out of time!" he growled, "Quick! Do you have blood replenishing potions?"

Hermione giggled, her tremors growing more violent as she reached back to grab the bag.

"Yesh a'course I do," she slurred. It took her clumsy fingers a few tries to get the knot undone, and then she pulled it around in front of her so that he couldn't see what she was doing.

And what he _could_ see was making his trousers rather uncomfortable indeed. Her black skirt was still partially flipped up showing the unimpressive matching black panties. The problem was that the thin cotton material left nothing to the imagination. Her buttocks and thighs appeared firm and toned from such a close angle and for the first time he was somewhat thankful that his hands were not free because between the buzz of his satiated, blood filled belly and Hermione's rather lascivious kisses, his resolve to stay as hands-off as possible was weakening.

She brushed softly against his groin accidentally and he had to bite his tongue to keep from moaning.

He had to stay focused.

But that was much easier said than done.

The sound of a stopper being pulled filled his ears.

"Is this it?" she said, twisting around, holding the bottle under his nose.

 _Of course. She can't see very well, and the venom makes her hypersensitive to my...approval._

He took a whiff and shook his head.

"No," he said, "Try again."

"I was sure it was in an oblong vial," Hermione said, her lip trembling as she turned back around and dug in the bag.

Her breasts were pushing against the front of his trousers as she bent to rummage around for the vial and this time his moan slipped out before he could snatch it back.

"Hmmm?" she asked curiously, "What's this?"

" _Don't_." he gulped weakly, his eyes widening as she stroked her fingers tentatively across the tented fabric, "You need to focus! Get the next vial and present it to me. _Quickly_!"

She made a disappointed noise, but her searching fingers stopped their dangerous exploration.

"This one?" she asked, turning. He felt a droplet spilling on him as her hand shook and he nodded, feeling silly moments later when he realized that she probably couldn't see him very well in the near darkness.

"Drink the whole thing," he commanded. " _Now_."

Hermione did as he asked, spilling a bit more on him as she raised it to her lips. He gasped at the sudden wetness and she bent down to look at him with concerned eyes.

"Here," she said, her tremors already beginning to stabilize, "Let me get that for you."

His eyes went huge at the sensation of her tongue lightly drawing over the droplet of potion that had fallen there. She drew back, looking at him with a playful smirk. Her pupils were wide and dark now. While her sight would never match his own for obvious reasons, she could still see fairly well in the gloom.

And she obviously liked what she saw.

She was pawing against him lightly and he moved instinctively against her touch, his mind no longer concerned with plans and escaping and...whatever that other thing was….

She shifted upwards and her breasts were now pressing maddeningly against his face as she lapped against at his arm. He winced as he suddenly realized that she was running her tongue across the gash that Pansy had made and it startled him from his reverie.

"NO!" he shouted, struggling against his bonds, "It's not safe! You can't!"

But she'd already cleaned away the blood that had seeped to the edge of his cut with her warm, wet tongue. He could taste it when she shifted back down to kiss him; the salty, sweet flavor of her blood having been transformed into something different as it ran through his own veins and he whimpered at the loss of control that filled him.

"Tell me, what do _you_ want, _Severus_?" Hermione said pulling her lips away until they were almost brushing his, her voice a soft sing-song as she rubbed against him.

"I think you'll find that it is not _what_ I want, but _whom_ ," he replied carefully, trying to keep his voice from catching as she pressed against him once more, until he was drowning in her amazing scent. "And if only I could be free of these shackles...I would be amenable to showing you exactly what I mean by that."

His mind was buzzing with desire, all thoughts of fighting, of escape, of that daft cow, Pansy Parkinson and her stupid little knife...all were gone, replaced by one word that repeated over and over in his mind.

 _Hermione._

Her name was on his lips again and again as she unbuttoned his jacket slowly, her fingers working largely on touch alone as she bent every so often to kiss him hungrily, their mouths tasting like copper and need.

"Let's get you into something more comfortable," Hermione said, her eyes filling with a heat that practically burned him as she pressed against him nose to nose.

The static built around her hair in tiny blue forks of lightning and he only had a moment to wonder at her beauty as she began to glow slightly, the power arcing off of her skin and flashing intermittently through her honey brown eyes.

And suddenly, the silver manacles were just... _gone_. Their weight had become almost a familiar ache against his skin, but now his wrists were cool in their freedom.

Bringing his arms down slowly, he stared at his freed wrists with wonder, then turned his attention to Hermione, who was straddling his legs and looking down at him like a particularly pleased puppy for having freed him.

"Can you show me _now_?" she begged, her eyes huge with hope.

For a moment, his eyes narrowed and he rubbed at his wrists while pursing his lips as though he was about to say something biting and cruel.

" _Severus_?" Hermione's voice was quivering and as he turned his gaze back to her, he could see the way she worried at her bottom lip in a similar manner to his own nervous tic.

And suddenly, it was as though his body had moved on its own. His arms were wrapping around her tightly as he drew up his knees so that she slid down his thighs, the heat of her core pressing against the twin heat of his own. And then, he was pressing his lips to hers, kissing her deeply until he could hear their hearts beating together in total symmetry. The part of him that was telling him that this was all wrong, that she didn't really love him, that he was doomed to be hated by everyone who ever cared about him was a tiny buzzing insect that was easily overpowered by the thrumming chord of desire as it filled his body more strongly than his Need ever had.

"Come to me, and I shall," he gasped, his words pouring hotly into her mouth.

But Hermione was beyond words and she moaned back, her fingers tugging urgently at the waist of his trousers as he held her against his body, determined to show her _everything_.

 _Everything and anything. Anything for a moment more with her._

* * *

Pansy was lucky to get her wards down quickly enough to reach the front steps of the Shack before she found herself vomiting noisily over the rotted railing, which buckled almost instantly with a terrible groan. It swung forward under her weight, causing her to crash into a brambly bush that was also coated with her vomit and she swore, which merely afforded her a mouthful of prickly thorns and bits of cooling half-digested chunks of food that had only been inside of her moments earlier.

This, of course, was so disgusting that she vomited again, this time all over her own robes.

It was as she was sputtering and cursing and trying to pick brambles off of her ruined clothing that who but Draco Malfoy should happen to walk by. It seemed like it happened in slow motion. He turned to see what was making so much noise so late at night, and Pansy's eyes widened as she froze, on her knees in a brambly bush with a rotted railing under her and the acrid stench of stomach acid dissipating into the night air.

His eyes widened with disbelief and then narrowed with disgust. It seemed that his earlier good mood, courtesy of Hyacinth, was no longer in effect.

"Exactly what are you doing over there, Parkinson?" he asked coldly.

Pansy winced at his use of her surname. They'd always been on a first-name basis before...before everything had gone tits up.

"Um...well…." she tried to think of a reasonable explanation. "I felt sick and...I just wanted to be alone. You know, it's not easy seeing you every day, especially when we're no longer together."

Draco snorted in a manner that obviously implied that she was an idiot.

"There are plenty of places to go where you aren't in danger of killing yourself by touching anything," he said derisively. "Come on, Pansy. You're a Slytherin, not a Gryffindork. That level of stupidity is beneath you."

Pansy bristled. Even though she was covered in vomit and bits of prickle bush, she still felt that being called as stupid as a Gryffindor was a bit much.

"Well, I wasn't asking for your opinion!" she shouted back, crossing her vomit-stained arms momentarily before the combined stench of both sleeves nearly caused her to hurl once more.

"Come on, then," Draco said, rolling his eyes and pulling out his wand. "I'll Scourgify you and escort you back to the common room. You look like you could use a good, long soak. Besides, I'm alone. It looks as though my date ditched me, after all."

Pansy glanced back at the Shack behind her for a moment, weighing her options. She knew she needed to finish what she'd started back in the room before anyone began asking questions. And once she'd been turned into a vampire in a "tragic accident" and Hermione had been "accidentally drained" to death by the "evil vampire teacher," she'd be free to return to the status quo, as well as Draco's heart, for good.

But she couldn't deny that she stank evilly, and Draco was a witness, though he was an awfully cute witness.

She weighed her options and pulled herself up to her feet.

"Well," she said, sighing deeply as Draco Scourgified her from twenty paces away while holding his nose and snickering behind his hand, "At least it can't get any worse than this."

She was, of course, very, very wrong.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: ;) Go get a fan, because it's about to get a bit hot in here.

No seriously, there's a ton of sex in here, so please don't read if you don't want to see Vampire Severus fucking Hermione's (rather substantial) brains out in your head. Once imagined, this cannot be unseen You've been warned.

* * *

 **Chapter 10: The Heat in Your Veins**

Hermione kissed him hungrily, her tongue thick with desire as her soft moans were met by deep, urgent noises of his own. Encouraged by her enthusiasm, Severus slid his hands down her back until they rested on the swell of her hips, his fingers digging into the top of her firm arse as though holding onto her for dear life as she gasped her approval into his mouth.

"Lower," she purred, balancing on her knees and reaching her hands behind herself until they were over his.

She slid them down gently until he was cupping her arse fully with both palms. She brought her arms around his neck and leaned forward, grinding against the gray cotton boxers that were underneath his unzipped trousers. She'd pulled them down until they rested on his lower hips, but even so, he felt almost totally exposed, his erection pressing urgently against the the maddening foggy heat that seemed to pour from between her legs as she slid back and forth again and again.

Her hair was wild with static and forks of power flickered and buzzed against his cheeks as their faces pressed close and they breathed each other in.

Hermione's hands found their way to the band of his boxers and began to slide her fingers inside as she panted with anticipation.

Immediately, his eyes went wide and Severus grabbed her wrists.

"Are...are you sure that you want this? With me?" he choked out hesitantly, his eyes wide and pleading.

For all his desire, Severus had a terrible secret of which he was quite ashamed. Namely, he'd never gone much further than a few furtive kisses and some light outercourse. And that had only happened after some particularly good consensual feeds with one of the many Rennies that frequented the Scarlet Room at the _Jugular Veinue_.

For, as a vampire, Severus did not have the same carnal desires as most human beings unless he had recently fed, and even then, unless the blood was both given freely and of high quality, the most he could muster up was a half-mast display in his pants. He'd been called everything from a closet homosexual to a creep, as most male vampires had no qualms with becoming aroused enough after a feed to carry on their delights of the body in a more... _physical_ manner.

It was a big part as to why Severus did not consider keeping Rennies of his own, even if they were fully consenting to it.

But now, for the first time ever, he'd found someone who half him wound more tightly than a piano wire, his body buzzing with untapped years of desire.

The only problem was that, while he understood the basics of sex, he had no idea how to please Hermione.

And he _wanted_ to please her.

Badly.

If he had his way, he'd make her see stars and explosions and every other physical sensation associated with absolute bliss. He would curl her toes and render her a quivering lump of satisfaction.

And a growing part of him was terrified that he'd never be able to accomplish even a fraction of that.

For, bitten or not, Hermione was still going to have certain likes and dislikes. Her body would have certain qualities that would make pleasure of one sort possible and pleasure of another completely out of the question.

But regardless of the consequences, he wanted to try anyway.

"Severus, look at me," Hermione had a slightly serious look in her eye as she took a deep breath to calm her racing heart. "I want _you_. I want _this_. Do I have to spell it out? Because I _will_. I want _you_ to make me come until I collapse. I want _you_...to come inside of me _too_. I want to feel _you_ moving inside of me. I want...all of _you_. In short, I want _you_ to fuck me, Severus Snape."

She blushed more deeply as she used the expletive, but her eyes were still fierce with resolve. And, as though to prove it, she tugged at her skirt and in one fluid motion pulled her dress up over her head.

"Touch me," she whispered as she flung the dress to the floor. "Caress me. Want me. Love me. Take me. Please, _Severus_ , please."

The sight of her pert breasts in the black satin bra she wore and her soft entreaties were his undoing. He decided that, no matter what, he would make her happy, even if he had no idea how to do such a thing.

His hands lay flat against her stomach running over the slight curve of her belly and around the back of her. She had the softest skin he'd ever felt, and he was certain that he would never feel anything so silky again. Snaking his hands back around to the front of her, he cupped her breasts, which were still held in place by her bra.

"Bend closer to me," he insisted, meeting her lips with soft, urgent kisses as she did as he asked.

In one smooth movement, he reached both hands behind her and fumbled awkwardly with the strap for a moment before it came loose and she shrugged off the straps of the silky garment, allowing him to pull it off the rest of the way.

"Let me kiss them. _Please_?" He breathed in sharply as he took in the sight of her bare breasts; her areolas dark with arousal and her nipples standing erect.

 _For you. They're like this because of you._

He gulped loudly at the thought, which made his erection twitch involuntarily against her firm arse cheeks.

She nodded and pulled forward until his mouth was level with her left breast. Licking her nipple tentatively, he was spurred on by her pleasurable reaction and wrapped his lips around it, suckling gently while Hermione writhed and shook above him while massaging the other with his hand. He switched off and did the other breast, paying attention to every little noise she made and slowly figuring out by her reactions exactly how she liked to be touched.

He found that she liked having her aureolas traced softly in a circular motion. But she was neutral on nipple tweaking and decidedly _not_ into nipple biting (he was gentle, but her shriek of pain was terrible enough to make him worry that he'd done something worse than nibble on her).

Moving on to her lips as his hands kept her breasts warm and humming with pleasure with his careful fingerwork, he found that she enjoyed certain types of kisses better than others. So he focused on her favorites until he was certain that their heads were both humming with desire.

Meanwhile, her hand kept sliding back, her fingers wrapping against his painfully throbbing erection even as the heat between the apex of her thighs bore down upon it every time she purposefully slid back to press against it.

He couldn't seem to figure out a way to say what he wanted at that moment, but in the end, he didn't have to.

"I think I'm ready for you," Hermione moaned breathily, her face flushed with desire, "but you need to know...I'm not really all that experienced in this sort of thing. I'll have you know that I've read books about it, though-"

Severus couldn't help himself. He snorted loudly, leaving Hermione with a dreamy yet confused expression on her face.

"Are you amused at my study habits?" Hermione's voice nearly sounded like her normal self as she flushed with embarrassment.

"Not exactly," he replied, his words coming out in thick pants of hot breath, "but do not worry. I shall endeavor to go as... _slowly_...as you require. I only hope that I can contain myself long enough to give you all that you deserve."

For even with a moan caught in the back of his throat, Severus Snape was still Slytherin enough not to admit to being a virgin.

She slid her hands over his, sliding them down from her breasts until they came to rest on the waistband of her panties.

"I want you to do it," she said breathlessly.

He looped his fingers under the elastic and she shivered at his touch.

"How do I-? Oh." he said as she pulled herself up, his grasp on her underthings firm enough to slip them from her waist until they were at her thighs, her knees then her ankles, baring everything for him to see as she stood above him in all her naked splendor.

She stepped out of them a little awkwardly, and he only felt a flash of heat and wetness as the fabric touched his torso momentarily before Hermione had bent down and tossed them away into the darkness.

"Won't be needing those, will we?" she purred, her eyes half-lidded.

"No," he replied, his voice coming out strained at the sight of her fully bared flesh.

Her soft curling pubic hair reminded him of a much shorter version of the snarls on her head, but it didn't intimidate him. Rather, he wanted to stroke those tiny curls until she parted her legs more fully for him to stroke the soft, yielding flesh beyond.

"May I?" he asked, raising his fingers until they were nearly touching her but not quite.

She nodded, her face going red as he closed the distance between the two of them. His soft, probing fingers rested against her tiny curls, stroking them gently as though petting a sleeping cat and he wondered at their softness.

"Beautiful," he breathed, his fingers sliding between the apex of her thighs and gently rubbing against her outer labia as Hermione moaned sharply.

The amazingly tantalizing scent pouring from her was even stronger than the taste in her mouth had been when she'd kissed him. He wanted to taste her there too, but he knew better than to push her so much when she already seemed a little self-conscious, even in her altered state.

"Isn't it embarrassing?" she asked, her eyes slightly wide with apprehension.

"There is _nothing_ embarrassing about _this_ , Hermione," he replied, gently slipping a finger inside of her and marveling at how hot and wet she was inside as she moaned sharply and her legs shook from the exertion of both standing and experiencing the pleasure of his touch.

His body roared with the need to take her as soon as humanly possible, and his hips arched up towards her slightly by instinct.

This movement was not lost on Hermione, whose eyes had gone soft with a sense of wonder at his complete acceptance of her body, from the snarls of hair atop her head to the curling hairs and foggy sexual heat at the other end of her torso. Something told Severus that Hermione had never been treated kindly when it came to her body, and with a twinge of self-hatred, he realized that he'd also played a part in her self confidence when he'd told her that he'd seen no difference in her teeth after they'd been hexed into growing until they were practically tusks several years before.

And yet, here she was, wanting _him_. Needing _him._

He did his best to ignore the tiny voice in the back of his head telling him that it was all a lie.

She pulled back for a moment, and he reluctantly removed his fingers from between her legs, licking the wetness off of the with his long tongue and savoring her sweet, heady taste. Though it was not blood, his fangs extended partially at such an arousing flavor, and he worried for a moment that the Need would flare to life and entreat him to feed once more.

But her blood had been so potent, that his fangs merely extended until they were slightly protruding from his top lip before they stopped, giving him an endearingly toothy look.

Meanwhile, Hermione was on her knees between his spread legs and she'd begun tugging his boxers down even further, sliding them under his arse as his hips rose with desire until they were down around his thighs and his erection finally sprung free, thick and engorged with blood.

 _Hermione's blood. Her blood. Inside of me. And she wants…_

The thought was too much to take. He wanted to slide inside of her so badly that he cried out with need.

Hermione got to her feet and straddled his stomach, the heat of her core blasting against his navel as she brought his lips to hers again and kissed him hungrily.

"I want you inside of me more than I've wanted anything in my life," she whispered ardently into his mouth, smiling against his lips as she provoked a small broken moan from the back of his throat.

She rose up on her toes, positioning herself above him, her half-lidded eyes never leaving his as she panted and quivered at the thought of the momentous act they were about to begin. Taking himself in hand, Severus pulled back on his shaft until a few tiny drops of lubrication beaded atop the thick rosy head of his cock. Her labia was spread wide and he could feel the wet heat that poured from her, inviting him closer. With his other hand, he slid one finger, then two, then three, inside of her, prompting Hermione to cover her mouth as she nearly screamed at the heady sensation that filled her. When he was able to fit a fourth finger snugly inside of her, he withdrew them, licking them clean and then positioned himself in the proper place.

"Come to me, Hermione. You're ready now," he said breathlessly, fairly certain that this was true.

He did not want to hurt her, especially since this was obviously her first time as well. He'd felt the slight membrane of her hymen as he'd first slid his finger inside of her, and had gently stretched it to the side as he added each digit. There was no need for her to bleed again after all she'd done earlier.

Hermione panted, her body lowering slowly over him until the head of his cock kissed her labia, sliding between and slowly entering her. She was so wet by this time that it was only with a small groan that she was able to take him into her, the rest of his length following smoothly until he'd bottomed out against her cervix and they both cried out at the burst of pleasure that seemed to fly from their very cores and spiraled outward to their extremities in an explosion of light and heat.

She rocked slightly on her knees, her arms so tightly around his neck that he could barely breathe. They were connected, now, in the most intimate of places. Severus waited for Hermione to recover, her gasps of pleasure and heavy breathing filling him with pride at having pleased her so well, though they were far from finished.

Her death grip on him lessened as she relaxed, her body becoming used to the feeling of his cock tightly wedged within her vaginal folds, the firm, spongy tip of it pressing against her cervix and sending pleasurable waves of sensation into her womb. He placed his hands on her hips, then, and nuzzled her nose gently with his own.

"When you're ready, Hermione," he whispered reverently. "Take all the time you need."

She nodded against him gently, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment as her heart beat fast against his chest, and then as maddeningly slow as possible, she began to move.

His head was thrown back and things that could have been words were escaping his lips, though he could not have told anyone what he was saying. Severus never considered himself a talkative man, but at that moment, Hermione was drawing forth every sound he could possibly make as she slid back and forth, gripping his shaft, the friction pleasurable though their bodies made wet, embarrassing noises as they moved together. He didn't want to hurt her, so he'd tried to remain still, but her movements inspired that almost instinctual soft bucking back against her pace, and every time the head of his cock kissed against her cervix, they both cried out, their faces contorted in pleasure as they renewed their connection again and again, until both were in such a state that neither was sure where one ended and the other began.

Their bodies were slick with sweat, the thick scent of sex and desire filling the room until it was almost overpowering. Neither Severus nor Hermione seemed to care about the volume of their voices as they moaned and mewled and called out one another's name until their throats were hoarse and their tongues thick with ecstasy.

And then, with a shudder and a sharp cry, she bucked against him until he bottomed out inside of her, his shaft feeling as though it were being milked by heavy muscular undulations that seemed beyond Hermione's control as she panted and hissed above him.

The look of frantic completion in her eyes was too much to bear.

His hips moved instinctively against her as he felt a new, strange, warm tightening sensation that built deep within his testicles and shot outward. And as he poured his hot cum inside of her while she begged for him to do it, the sensation was both so intense that he could hardly stand it and so pleasurable that his average feed paled in comparison.

He certainly didn't mean to bite her when she collapsed on top of him, but she begged him to do it, begged him to bite her even if he didn't take a drop of blood from her body, just so she could be connected to him in more than one way. His cock twitched inside of her a final time as he savored the feeling of having filled her womb.

And as he sank his fangs into her neck again, he marveled at how they were like the ouroboros, connected at both ends of their bodies. He showed no signs of growing flaccid, so instead he savored the feeling of being surrounded by the heat and warmth inside of the satiated witch, his mind going fuzzy with a sense of loving her that his rational mind tried desperately to veto in vain.

And when she had caught her breath and their kisses had gone from languid to full of urgency once more, there was no ambiguity in their movements as they began their carnal pursuits anew.

* * *

 **Author's Note (Postscript):** This monster took me three days to write and I was traveling too. So I really hope you like it and it plays out well in your head. If so, you're totally welcome. *collapses in bed*


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** Thank you so much for all of the kind reviews. I know that you're all curious as to what is going to happen next, so I'm just going to jump right into it. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Unexpected Changes**

Time seemed to freeze in the tiny, decrepit room at the back of the Shrieking Shack. Hermione's hair was practically glowing blue as her power licked wildly across her skin and poured from her eyes. Coal gray curls of power like cool smoke pooling on water flowed from Severus as their connection continued to intensify, their bodies moving as though spurred on by a power far beyond their own.

Severus could not remember how many times he'd reached his limit, nor could he remember how many times Hermione had cried out in completion against his lips. Their power poured from their bodies as the tantalizing musk of sex filled the air, and unexpected things were happening, though neither were cognizant enough to notice. Boards that had lain across the floor in piles had rearranged themselves into bookcases. The dust and grime had gone, leaving brightly shining beams of wood on the floor. A fluffy white rug materialized next to the bed and the mattress, which had been lumpy and smelled of mold, was now firm and sat perfectly in the heavy oak frame, whose curling floral designs were now visible in the brightening light that continued to build in intensity around Hermione and Severus as they writhed together, their bodies refusing to be separated.

The ward that Pansy had placed on the door to the room to trap them inside was pushed back by a wave of shining power until it shattered and dissipated into the air. Her sickly orange Binding Ward was replaced with a thick, two-layer barrier made of pulsating ice-blue light with an undercurrent of slate gray that coiled like a fat snake underneath the top layer's azure surface. Hermione's neck was now riddled with fang marks, though he was careful to take only small amounts of her blood upon her insistence. In return, she'd lowered her mouth to the partially-healed gash on his arm and licked the slowly dripping blood with her talented pink tongue, the sensation overwhelming as he shook against the firm pressure of each lick.

He should have stopped her, he knew. For he had also done the same to Sanguini, feeding at the vampire's wrist for all of those dark days they'd been trapped. But there were things that he knew about the Change now that he hadn't back when he was merely eighteen and had been thrust into an impossible situation. For example, there was the fact that, while one's fangs grew in before the Change was complete, it was the first feed of non vampire blood that provoked the Change, not the consumption of vampire blood itself. But it was considered rather undignified for a vampire to feed on their Master's blood after the Change, and eventually the vamp would be forced to find food elsewhere. Now, years later, he knew he'd been removed from the vampire far too early in the turning process, and the shock of it had nearly ended his life... _permanently_. This is why he was not fully bonded to the vampire that had sired him. Most vampiric Masters controlled those to whom they'd given the Gift to varying degrees. They were the closest thing to children or heirs that a vampire could create, which meant that it was only done rarely in significant circumstances. While most Changes were not regulated by the High Council of vamps, they would become involved if anything went awry.

Severus had done a large amount of research on his condition once he'd recovered from the draining hunger before his first feed. It was one of the only ways to keep himself sane in those early days when he'd been forced to relearn how to exist and function within his new body's limiting capacities. Besides, Dumbledore had been more than accommodating, giving him his own, separate room complete with library in the dungeons, whose windows opened out to the darkest parts of the lake where no sunlight could touch.

But Severus was rather certain that this wasn't done out of the goodness of the Headmaster's heart. After all, there'd been rumors going around about a werewolf at the school, though none had been found, and the Ministry was already in a tizzy due to Voldemort's conservative political movement, which seemed to be gathering more clout and growing more fascist every day. A vampire siring a student during the school year at Hogwarts under Dumbledore's nose would have been bad enough press to sack Dumbledore, if not land him in Azkaban for his complacency. In exchange for giving Severus accommodations for his... _problem_ …Dumbledore had wrested a Vow from him to keep the details of his siring a secret until Dumbledore was no longer Headmaster. As a student coming from abject poverty, Severus did not have much of a choice.

And it's not like anyone would believe _him_ anyway.

Dumbledore had been thorough, offering Severus a number of rare texts on vampirism, which had been much appreciated, though he had suspected it was still more of a function of Dumbledore covering his arse and not anything remotely resembling kindness.

One of the anecdotes that stuck out in his mind the most was when he'd read about Blutvarticus the Disgruntled, a vampire who had been Changed in the Middle Ages who, after his Master was killed by an angry mob, began to believe that vampires were superior to bloodthirsty, barbaric humans. He decided to start his own Holy War against humanity by siring as many vampires as he could and forcing them to swear fealty to him on pain of death or death of those they loved. This he did in the name of "the greater good for all vampires."

But he apparently didn't think his grand scheme all the way through, as vampires need a regular supply of blood to feed upon. By the time his army had reached over a hundred blood-sucking souls, the neighboring villages were being bled dry each night... _literally_...and those that survived the night moved away as quickly as they could. So many died that there was no longer an adequate supply to keep his army fed, and so, starving and desperate, his vampires fed upon one another while others defected and ran until the sun caught them or they were ended at last for their barbaric actions.

In the end, Blutvarticus had been torn apart by his own men, and when the High Council had found out about this, they passed an edict declaring that a vampire could not sire more than one heir per century without unanimous approval by their members. Those who did not comply were hunted down by the Vipers, an elite force of vampiric hunters that ended their own kind. To join, a vampire would need to be over three centuries old and pass certain tests outlined by the High Council. A newly sired vampire would have no chance, and neither would the average Master.

Severus had never thought about siring. In fact, the thought made him ill. He knew that Sanguini really hadn't had much of a choice (as draining a human dry was tantamount to murder), but he still felt a twinge of guilt for forcing the vampire (who was only slightly into his second century of life) to waste his free sire of the century on some poor, half blooded nobody from Slytherin. He still corresponded with Sanguini via owl from time to time, but it had always been an awkward mentorship at best, and Severus secretly suspected that Sanguini had been glad to be rid of him when it was over, though the vampire had never said anything of the sort.

Severus Snape was used to being unwanted, after all, so it was nothing new.

He'd joined the Death Eaters not long after creating his salve, determined to pass, determined to succeed when everyone else, especially Dumbledore, had failed him more than once.

But that had been a terrible mistake as well.

But now, here, filled with the heat and light and pleasure that had nothing to do with his vampiric venom and everything to do with Hermione's presence in his arms, her scent wrapped thickly around him like a comforting blanket of joy, he found himself never wanting it to end. Even as he could feel her teeth growing sharper against his flesh, her cries growing hoarse from their hours of passion, he couldn't bring himself to pull away.

They were filling one another in perfect symmetry, their bodies taking what should have been a parasitic relationship to a symbiotic level instead.

And even when the sun had crested the foothills and the day had started anew, the tiny room was blanketed and secured from the world outside in a cocoon of night.

And with every shared breath, they grew closer, changing slowly into something different, something _more_ than what they were alone.

And though neither of them held any love for Pansy Parkinson, both had to admit that without her meddling, they would never have found such bliss.

And for that, they were eternally grateful.

* * *

Pansy Parkinson was in a foul mood, indeed. Not only had she been forced to incinerate her robes due to the fact that the smell had remained on them even after the elves had laundered them several times, but she'd been forced to scrub her skin raw in the bath to remove any lingering stench, and even now, she still thought that she could smell a hint of it on her body, though that should have been impossible.

If that wasn't bad enough, Draco had kept a wide berth for obvious reasons on their walk back to Hogwarts. It wasn't very romantic, and they'd made awkward small talk the entire way, growing silent as they'd reached the gates.

Pansy needed to think about how she was going to deal with her little vampire problem. But she was also sore and tired from her ordeal. All she really wanted to do was curl up under her blankets and sleep.

And she figured that her captives wouldn't be able to go anywhere without wands anytime soon, so she had time.

As she tucked herself into her bed, she decided that she leave them in their prison until the following night.

It would serve them right to suffer a little after she'd suffered so much.

And then she'd be sure to make them suffer even more.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** I know it should go without saying since you all hate her guts...but….

* * *

 **Chapter 12: Don't be a Pansy**

Pansy awoke so late that Sunday morning that it was nearly afternoon. Her crusted-over eyes cracked painfully as she opened them. Her mouth was painfully dry while her pillow was soaked with drool, which was equal parts humiliating and disgusting.

From the number of Silencing Wards thrown up around her bed (which shocked and burned her skin as she tripped over and banged her chin against the carpet, her legs tangled in the sheets), Pansy realized with a stab of humiliation that she'd been snoring. Loudly, by the looks of things. Her roommates were all long gone but she knew she'd either catch hell for it later or endure a month of passive-aggressive barbs aimed in her direction, and that's only if she'd managed to hold her tenuous grasp on the meager amount of popularity she still retained after her snorefest the night before.

And Pansy was already not particularly popular.

Sure, from a blood-status point of view, she'd enjoyed a number of years with plenty of faux friends whose families had connections or were of similar status.

But after Voldemort's final fall, disclosing one's blood status had practically become taboo. It had become synonymous with Voldemort's reign of terror, and no one wanted to be associated with a mass murdering monster.

And now, especially after Draco's family had fallen from grace, she found that much of the privilege and power she'd enjoyed was no longer hers. It had been taken from her by those who paraded around and acted like they were superior just because they'd followed Dumbledore like blind rats looking for the better cheese.

Pansy didn't like it. The way things were changing, she'd probably be forced to take classes from a House Elf! A goblin might run for Minister and win! Of all the ridiculous things! But she had to admit that it was not as far-fetched as it sounded. With a centaur teaching Divination, it was only a matter of time.

Truth be told, under Pansy's anger and indignation was a deep current of fear that she dared not speak about. She was not ignorant of the anger of those who had been wronged. Many were not satisfied with equating Voldemort's end with the end of the matter of dealing with long-standing, unfair wizarding societal power structures. Many called for blood and retribution against all pure blooded wixen, and it did not help that there were still a number of people who believed that all purebloods had been Death Eaters and were simply liars with money like Lucius Malfoy, whose wolf-in-sheep's-clothing act had allowed Voldemort's interests to infect Ministry politics upon his return.

There was so much blame to be thrown that Pansy knew that it was only a matter of time before someone tried to hurt her in the name of retribution.

So, she reasoned, why not make the first strike? Why not kick them while they were down, before they were strong enough to retaliate properly? Pansy saw nothing wrong with this. After all, she was certain that anyone would do the same to her.

It was a shame that she didn't understand that she was the one giving others cause to seek revenge in the first place, but then again, Pansy had never been all that much for thinking too much about others when she could focus on herself instead.

And if Pansy was good at one thing in her life, it was thinking about her own interests.

* * *

Though not a crack of sunlight had entered their enclosed cocoon of magical darkness, once the sun hit the rise of the hills that protected Hogsmeade from the fickle moods of the Scottish sea, something shifted in the passionate energy between the vampire and the young woman who was somewhere in between.

" _Hermione_ ," Severus cried softly, his arms wrapping around her body as she snuffled against his neck, her newly sharpened teeth raking at the side of his throat softly.

She made a noise at the back of her throat like a purr and nuzzled sleepily down his throat until she was rubbing against the hollow of his collarbone with her nose.

"You...you have a right to know," he said, his voice husky and raw from their unrelenting hours of heated, unending activity.

She lay back, staring up at him with huge, golden brown eyes, though as he gazed into them with a surging sense of tenderness, they now seemed tinged with a scarlet hue that had not been there before. She seemed to be waiting patiently for him to continue, and for the first time, he felt almost sad that she wasn't full of her usual know-it-all spirit.

Severus hesitated. He didn't want to break this, their perfect time together, with his ridiculous need to be chivalrous and soul-crushingly pragmatic about things.

Truth be told, he had many questions. He was unsure how he'd been able to keep up his endurance, as even vampires had their limits. That neither of them had passed out or fallen asleep after the first hour they'd been at it was both amazing and somewhat worrying, as it didn't seem humanly possible.

But if Severus Snape had learned anything in his life, it was that a great deal of things that seemed impossible at first were more than doable with magic.

A part of his mind had been puzzling out the feeling of deja vu that filled him even as he filled her body with his essence and she gave of herself freely over and over again. Something about this specific situation was familiar somehow. He'd read about it all those years ago when he was still newly turned. It was such a small passage in the text he'd been studying that it had been nothing more than a footnote. But the details faded around the edges and just as he thought he'd grasped the meaning, it flitted away again.

Something remarkable dwelt in her scent, her taste, her blood. It was something he'd never encountered in its pure form before, but it was intoxicating and addictive now that he'd immersed himself in it. This had not happened when he had been Changed. It had been bloody and desperate and horrible when his mind came down from those blissful peaks of oblivion. He'd felt ill and more than a little mortified about how he'd clung like a fool to Sanguini's leg once his mind had recovered from the Change. There was no ardor, no sense of sexual completion, no feeling of another's power pressing against his until they practically seemed to merge.

He'd been in that closet with Sanguini for almost seven days, but he had never felt anything even close to the aching bliss he'd experienced in Hermione's arms. And in less than twelve hours, it only seemed to grow, even though he was fully sated and his Need was laying dormant, purring like a contented, slumbering beast in the depths of his belly.

And, as he looked at Hermione, who now lay beneath him, her skin glowing with a soft bluish tinge to it as her hair crackled and blew around her face as though caught in an invisible electric wind, he knew that this too had not happened to him when he'd been sired. His own skin had taken on a glowing, greyish quality that unnerved him at first, but once he realized it didn't hurt, he found that he didn't particularly care as long as she was connected to him somehow. Somehow, he knew that this had something to do with the magic they were making together, and he could not bear to tear himself away.

 _Hermione_.

His heart, which he'd often suspected had atrophied in its reticence to beat more than once or twice every hour, now seemed to beat in time to the syllables in her name.

Part of him, the bitter, angry, neglected part, reminded him that if he was happy now, it was only a fraction of the misery that was sure to be in store for him later. That's how his life tended to work, after all. For every pleasure, it seemed as though he received pain tenfold. Severus was unsure as to what deity he'd pissed off in his previous life, but he was fairly certain that if he could go back and kick whoever he used to be in the head for being fool enough to do such a thing, he'd jump at the chance.

"Hermione," he said again, her name coming from his mouth sounding like the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard. "You've taken in my blood, which means that if you continue like this...with me...there will be no going back. You will fully Change as I have changed the moment you drink from blood other than my own. If you choose to return to your human state, you will have to stave off your Need for over a week until your blood can filter out and replace the tainted blood."

"There is nothing tainted about your blood, Severus," Hermione replied, raising her hand to slide a strand of his dark hair back behind one of his ears.

He was aware that the expression on his face had gone a bit blank with self consciousness. No one had ever...well... _not_ blamed him when they had the chance to do so. And part of himself wondered if Hermione was only responding to his venom, though the blood she'd consumed from his arm should have muted the effect slightly.

This was new territory for him as well. He'd never given a thought to siring, much less taking on a regular Rennie to feed from, and was therefore at a loss for words.

He only hoped that, whatever happened, Hermione would not hate him. He wasn't sure if he would be able to bear it. His heart had shattered when Lily left him all alone after that horrid afternoon by the lake, and that was after they'd already had been drifting apart for some time.

The thought that Hermione might leave after having been connected to him more closely than anyone he'd ever allowed to come to his scarred, ugly body, not to mention his heart of hearts, would destroy him.

Yet again, he began to feel as though he'd made a terrible mistake, one that was even more damaging with more potential for fallout than having joined up with the Death Eaters all those years ago. Even if he kept his distance, it would be impossible not to know her scent within a ten foot radius. It would distract him from being able to focus if he knew it was out of his reach forever.

Was this twelve hour respite in heaven worth an eternity of loneliness and suffering knowing what he'd lost?

A part of him still whispered that _yes_ , yes it was.

But the thought of being reduced to a blithering, cauldron-melting idiot every time he so much as caught a _whiff_ her scent with no hope of ever finding refuge in her arms again was enough to draw back the lid he'd placed on the yawning maw of despair that he'd so carefully sealed away earlier.

"Severus... _Severus_!" Hermione's sharp tone snapped him out of his miserable reverie and he stared down at her again, his dark eyes focused on the concern in hers.

"I'm...here...Hermione," he said tiredly, as their night's activities finally seemed to catch up with him.

"Thank goodness," she replied with a small sigh of relief, "For a minute there, it looked as though you went far away and I couldn't seem to reach you. Whatever were you thinking about?"

"Oh, just the fact that I'm a deplorable bastard," he mumbled, his eyes sliding down and away from her gaze. "I _forced_ you into this."

" _Severus_!" she said sharply, as though scolding him with his name. "If you're so sure that's true, then explain yourself."

"It's complicated." he continued in the same soft, mumbling voice.

"You know, I _was_ mad at you, but now after all of this...I can't explain it, but somehow I know you more now, and your little prank pales in comparison to your...honest enthusiasm." Hermione replied with a tiny smirk.

His eyes snapped wide.

 _Wait...what did she...?_

"A vampire's bite doesn't remove free will, Severus. It's in the first chapter of the extended version of Vampiric Varieties. I thought that you knew that."

The title of the book was unfamiliar to him but he silently filed away the title in his memory for later.

"What...what do you mean?" He said thickly, his tongue a dead weight in his mouth as he formed the words.

"The knowledge is in the blood. I have seen what makes you as it takes its place inside of my body, beating through my heart." Hermione said, raising her hand to her chest. "The pleasure, the pain, the sacrifice….but mostly the pain. You've suffered so, Severus. How can you bear it?"

"Badly." he said as his head drooped to her chest with shame.

She drew him closer with her arms, hugging him close to her and he wondered at how how still she was as he must be crushing her, even though she didn't protest in the least.

But how could she have seen his memories in his blood? He'd never read of such a thing happening during the Change. There was no guile in her eyes and he sensed that she wasn't trying to trick him, but still he fretted.

 _What if something is terribly terribly wrong?_

But it didn't feel wrong to be nestled against the heat of her bare breasts as she stroked his hair and kissed his head softly. The feeling was new, as his mother had never cuddled him much as a child, but he decided that this was a good thing.

It was much better to add memories that held no bitterness. Perhaps, one day, they would replace those that still stung like vinegar and salt in an open wound.

"What's happening to us, Severus?" Hermione crooned softly, "It feels like nothing I've ever felt in my life, like nothing I've ever read about, either."

"And how much _have_ you read on the subject?" Severus asked, genuinely intrigued.

"I did an immense amount of study on vampires for my _actual_ fifth year Defense paper, though I didn't turn it in for obvious, horrible-pink-toad-related reasons. I also brushed up on my knowledge when I went with Harry to seek horcruxes, as we all knew that Voldemort had found many an ally in various vampire covens scattered throughout Wizarding Britain and abroad and we had no idea what we would be up against. As for your... _condition_...well...I've had my suspicions about you for awhile now. It wasn't until after you'd "miraculously" returned that I really started to watch your behavior for the signs. I know that you can be out during the day, which should be impossible, but you are a Potions master of unparalleled skill. It's not farfetched to think that you've invented something to at least lessen the effects of…"

She trailed off, looking sympathetic.

"...spontaneous combustion?" Severus finished for her with a smirk.

"Exactly." she replied, frowning a little at his flippancy.

"Still, if you suspected, why didn't you bring it up, even if only to punish your hated Defense professor?" Severus asked, puzzled that straight-laced Hermione would pass up an opportunity to follow the rules, especially since he was a rather difficult grader and had given her lower marks than she probably deserved in the name of pushing her to further her studies.

"I don't hate you," she replied quietly, her eyes growing starry with unshed tears. "Quite the opposite, actually."

"Stop it," he replied quietly, "You're just saying what my venom makes you say."

" _Don't_ do that," she remarked, her frown deepening.

"What, exactly?"

"Put yourself down like that. Tell me what I'm feeling and why. Tear yourself down and hurt yourself first before anyone else can do it." Hermione's voice rose as she gripped him more tightly against her.

"Hermione, you need to understand…" Severus trailed off. He really did not want to tell her about his hand in her current situation. The pressure against his chest was nearly unbearable when he thought of her breaking away from his side.

"What?! That you're a vampire? That you were given blood rights by that vampire that runs the place where I saw the concert last night in exchange for giving me a little scare and it backfired horribly because of Pansy? That you said insensitive things? That you were strict and unlikeable to my friends and I when I was younger? That you have always been alone? That your life has been hell for years and you're still not sure why you haven't allowed yourself to _spontaneously combust_ on purpose?!"

Hermione was squeezing him so tightly now that, had he been anything other than a creature of the night, he would have been unable to breathe.

Good lord, she'd become strong. He wondered if this was part of the Change as well.

"You've done terrible things. I get it. Honestly, I do. Will we probably argue and debate each other in the future? Of course, I don't doubt it. In fact, I _welcome_ it! But that, among other things, is what makes me lo-!"

He placed a finger over her lips and silenced her mid-word.

"Don't. Say. It. Not unless you _really_ mean it." he replied, his lips so close to hers as he breathed the words. "Not unless you are willing to accept all that comes with loving someone as pathetic and miserable as I am. Not unless...you know that if I give you my heart, it will _never_ leave your side unless it is silenced forever."

She looked a bit shocked as the enormity of his words sank in before her eyes softened once more.

"Look at me, Severus." she said, her voice so soft and tender that he almost cried out in surprise.

He couldn't _not_ look into her eyes. The honey brown orbs of her irises consumed him as he fell into her gaze. And though he felt more pathetic than ever, he could not stop himself from gripping her more tightly, as though holding on for dear life.

"Listen to me, Severus Snape," she said, saying his name with a kindness that made it sound like a song. "I. Love. You. And everything that entails."

"You don't know...you don't know what you're saying, Hermione…" he whispered thickly, trying to hold back the stupid moisture that was stinging his eyes, but he knew that his protests were halfhearted at best.

"Yes, I do." she said, nuzzling against his head. "I know it more than I've ever known anything in my entire life."

He tried to resist the fall as she whispered how much she loved him over and over, her whispered ardor tearing through him like fire.

But in his heart of hearts he knew that he was already lost.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: The Blood Thickens**

Time seemed to slow, then stop as Hermione felt her heart go silent in her chest. It seemed an eternity later before it beat once more, sending out a deep, pulsing thump to her ears as though she were nothing more than a massive clock ticking slowly as it wound down. Her eyes felt heavy and she longed to close them, to sink down into slumber at last. Her hands began to feel weak and light, her grasp loosening as she sank back against the mattress, a dreamy smile upon her face as she blinked slowly up at the vampire who loved her.

" _Please_! Stay with me!" Severus gasped, and he pressed his weight down upon her as he bent to kiss her, his heart beating wildly against her like a frightened rabbit.

He wrapped his long arms around her tightly, and Hermione felt thankful that she didn't seem to be out of breath. In fact, it had been nearly half an hour since she'd last felt the need to bring fresh air into her lungs, and she began to wonder what else was changing inside of her.

"I'm here, Severus. For as long as you need me." she whispered softly into his hair.

"For as long as forever?" he choked out brokenly, his face red and blotchy and wet from the unrelenting blood-tinged tears that dripped down his nose and cheeks.

She comforted him with soft, kind words and stroked his head, letting him burrow his face into the slight hollow against her collarbones and turned his head until his nose rested against the vein in her neck, snuffling quietly at her maddening scent as he pressed his weight against her.

She never thought that she would ever see such a stoic, controlled wizard in such a state. She slid her finger over some of the moisture that had run down his chin and tasted it. The flavor was salty and sweet, yet she could detect a third flavor that she couldn't quite place.

Somehow, she was reminded of something Ron had said when they were in their sixth year. Something about how he doubted that Snape even had emotions, much less was capable of producing tears. But as her mind caught flickers of memory, she could see that it was quite the opposite, really.

It seemed to Hermione that a dam had broken inside of him, one that had been built so long ago that he probably couldn't remember living without it. She could feel the flood of emotion that poured from him as though it were a physical force. But still she stayed with him, feeling her power ripple over her in licks of blue lightning and flame as though comforting him, grounding him to her. From the look on his face, this seemed to both terrify and relieve him. It was as though he was finally safe enough to cope with all that he had endured as long as he lay in her arms, and she knew for certain that he was not used to relying on anyone for anything. .

She couldn't imagine the extent of the trauma he'd experienced, but she had some idea of it beyond what Harry had told her about his foray into the pensieve. As she'd fed from his blood in increasing amounts, she could feel his mind pressing against her own, and memories poured into her even as she felt herself give him memories of her own.

She shuddered helplessly as she stood invisible by his side, watching him be hit again and again with the Cruciatus Curse. She saw the look of defeat and agony on his face as he realized that his so-called "friends" had only vouched for him so that they would no longer be the newbies in the Death Eaters After all, the lowest ranked initiates were basically playthings for the higher level Death Eaters, and that meant everything from menial humiliating tasks to enduring torture for the entertainment of the others.

And the worst part was that he had no friends to draw in and take his place. It was only after he happened to overhear the prophecy that he finally had the leverage an audience with the Dark Lord for the first time since his Marking ceremony. And so, he'd been able to escape by becoming the dedicated Potions brewer for Voldemort's forces, which meant that he was largely spared torture from the other Death Eaters unless they were sneaky about it.

For even though he'd helped their cause more than anyone else, it didn't do much for his popularity. They hated him for getting in good with Voldemort and securing the dark wizard's trust. They hated him for being able to hide behind his potions lab door and called him a coward for avoiding the torture and murder they engaged in.

She could see, after all he'd endured, why he couldn't stand being called cowardly.

Hermione focused on sending positive memories back to him, even though he seemed not to mind what sorts of memories she gave him as long as they were of her.

She sent him the feeling of being wrapped in a blanket with a steaming mug of tea and some biscuits left by her father on the end table by her chair as she read through a new book. She sent him the memories of her summers abroad, swimming every day and growing tan in the sun. Then there were the memories of her parents and their deep, unwavering love for her, which were tinged by a deep sadness at their loss.

As for her darker memories, such as the trauma of having seen the basilisk's gaze from her hand mirror, the terror she'd felt in the Ministry when they'd been attacked as they stumbled through room after room of horrors, and the moment she'd known that Death Eaters were in the halls of Hogwarts, that they'd killed Dumbledore...she'd built a wall of her own and pushed those feelings deeply inside of her to cope with them.

But she began to feel more and more that if she shared her painful memories with anyone, it would be him.

He was in the air, on her tongue, deep inside of secret places than no one else had ever been. He was running through her veins, beating through her heart, and every word that left his lips made her mind grow heady and full of light. She could feel him in her head, spooning against her consciousness even as she snuggled against his warm, slick body until they'd rested enough to begin again.

Hermione had never been much of a romantic, but when she fell, she fell hard, and often for seemingly no logical reason. Her heart frustrated her in its fickleness. She often looked back and wondered what had ever possessed her to fancy Ron.

But this...with Severus...she felt an almost magnetic draw to him as their magic crackled and merged, binding them together in an ancient way that needed no words, only power.

Something had awakened in both of them the moment his fangs had slipped into her neck. It was something Hermione had always known was missing but could never find the words to define exactly what it was. She tried to ignore the little bitter voice in the back of her head that told her that he was simply clinging to her because of the wild magic pouring from their bodies and his Need, not because she was anything special.

After all, that was always how it inevitably transpired every time she tried to make new friends or attempted a blind date. As a "war hero," she was understandably popular, but for all of the wrong reasons. It seemed as though she was doomed to be either invisible for who she was and lonely or a superstar forced out into a spotlight she'd never wanted simply because she'd fought against a madman and survived.

It figured that Ron, who had few skills other than wizards chess and his rather colorful vocabulary, was the best of the three at playing the part of the hero.

She'd read several books about vampires, of course, but she was hungry for more just as she hungered for him. She needed to know more. She just had to learn everything. Her mind ached with the desire of it, and like magic, his mind open wide and showed her she needed to know. His memories had taught her firsthand about the wretched twist of hunger that gnawed at his belly and clawed at his mind, though she'd never known it before. She also knew of his salve and the stinging burn of daylight when he wasn't careful enough to stay out of the direct sun.

When she thought about it, Hermione realized that coastal Scotland _was_ a rather ingenious place for a vampire to attempt to fit in. Its lack of truly sunny days and regular cloud cover made it an ideal place for the _daylight-challenged_.

She knew of his usage of the Red Room's services, how other vampires thought he was mental for refusing to use Rennies. She even saw close up how his fangs elongated and then drew back behind his canines when not in use as she watched him pull back his lip with one finger while staring into a spelled glass of some sort (it couldn't be a mirror as vampires did not have reflections). No wonder why no one had ever seen them, even though his sneer was legendary. There was a joke that Professor Snape's sneer was so frightening that it could even scare potions straight, which was why he was so good at making them.

Hermione could feel the beginnings of her own sharp fangs sliding partway past her canines, tiny deadly points of bone that had not been there before. She winced as she slid her tongue forward to feel them and nicked the tip of it.

"Have I hurt you? Are you in pain?" he asked softly, reluctantly pulling away from his comfortable spot against her and met her eyes with his own.

She shook her head in reply and his expression softened. His face had mostly recovered from earlier, but his nose was still a reddish tinge at its tip. Although it wasn't exactly the most attractive thing she'd ever seen in her life, Hermione found it endearing nonetheless.

"Look," she said, pulling back her lip on one side, "Pointy."

"Indeed," he replied, his eyebrow rising in amusement. "They suit you well. Would you like to try them out? After all, the wound on my arm is nearly gone thanks to your beautiful magic."

Hermione blushed and looked away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. She'd never... _bitten_ anyone before.

"Here, it will be easier this way," he said firmly, pulling himself up to a sitting position and giving her his hand to help her to sit up as well.

"Are you...sure?" Hermione said uncertainly as he held out his wrist to her, his veins standing up under the skin like beautiful blue chords of light.

"Hermione, I want you to do this. Your fangs aren't fully grown in yet, but that just means that you need a deeper latch. It won't hurt me, I promise."

Hermione looked skeptically at his wrist for a moment but when she looked back at him, she saw how earnest he was, as though he was handing her a gift.

And so she took it.

It took her two tries to properly do it, but once her fangs sunk into the vein on his wrist and she began to suckle gently, he began to quiver against her latch, his eyes rolling back into his head as she took his lifeblood into her body. Hermione, too, felt as though her body was thrumming with pleasure from head to toe, the warmth of his blood filling her with power and a heady rush of sexual desire.

Wet warmth was upon her wrist and she felt him sinking his fangs into her gently, but it was not a predatory act and did not hurt in the least. It was done affectionately, like a kiss that reached through her skin and quickened the desire that had spread outward from her heart as she fed. He purred at her wrist, the sensation vibrating through her nerves in ripples of pleasure and she moaned softly in turn until he was rigid with desire.

 _Want. Want. Want. Want._

Their hearts beat steadily as though speaking the same word over and over again, and with eyes glazed over with the heat and magic that surged through their bodies, both Hermione and Severus found themselves unable to look away at the beautiful things that they were doing to one another.

What they were becoming _together_.

Very soon after, they were connected elsewhere as well, and so neither noticed the shockwave of magic radiating out from where they moved together, sating their combined hunger in an endless circle.

* * *

Less than two miles away in the dwelling space of the Jugular Veinue, a pulse of magic hit Hyacinth so soundly that she dropped the juice she was bringing to the table for her Rennies and it spun away against the wall as she half-collapsed, holding the counter and shaking uncontrollably.

"B-bring me Lars!" she cried, her breaths coming out labored, her tongue thick in her mouth as one of her Rennies ran to help her. "NO! DON'T TOUCH ME! I NEED MY HUSBAND! GO!"

The girl looked stricken but backed off, running to do as she asked as the other three did their best to clean the mess and get the kitchen back into shape.

Something was not right.

Once this urgent ache was dealt with and she could finally walk again, Hyacinth swore that she would get to the bottom of it. For though the sun was high in the sky outside the blackened-out windows, she could smell the power of a Changing, and what was even more worrying was that this was the most powerful one she'd ever witnessed, though by rights the effects of a standard Changing should be far less active during the daylight hours, and it only ever got to this point after many days in the siring process. She rubbed her thighs together but it did not lessen the insistent ache that filled her, the desire to feed and to fuck her mate until she collapsed.

Snapping at one of the other Rennies to owl a note to her sister to be sure she was all right, Hyacinth gripped the counter as though it was all that held her from spinning off into space, hoping that Lars wouldn't be much longer while a tiny voice in the back of her head told her that this was all her fault.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note** : Sorry for the huge gap between Chapter 12 and 13. I should probably have explained that real life has been kicking my butt lately. And then I ran into a wall of stupid. Everything I wrote sounded dumb, I kid you not. It was all Flabby-gerfwabble-bupkir-bee? That's what happens when sleep deprivation and stress combine to form VOLTRON...wait...no...that's not right.

ANYWAY, I'm going to do my best to increase the frequency of my updates for this story, so please do not despair! I will not abandon it! That is my promise to you, dear reader.

Well, unless I get eaten by a vampire. One can't be too careful, after all.

* * *

 **Chapter 14: If It Weren't For That Meddling Kid**

Pansy was enjoying a perfectly lovely quiet lunch in the kitchens far away from anyone who could ruin her day, when an owl shot in through an open window and crash-landed right into her souffle, which, of course, exploded in chunks on impact and dripped all over the front of her robes. Cursing and spluttering, Pansy pulled out her wand, ready to hex the small creature within an inch of its life as it righted itself, its huge golden eyes looking up at her innocently. It hooted softly and extended its leg, which held a piece of parchment.

"Argh, you just _had_ to be cute!" she spat, using her wand to Scourgify both the owl and then herself, though she had a sneaking suspicion that some had gotten into her hair as well.

Pulling the parchment from the owl's leg carefully, she slid the ruined remains of her breakfast towards the hopeful-looking owl.

"Here you go, you little hellion," she grumbled as she wiped off the food-splattered parchment as best she could, "I don't eat food that's been seasoned by pinfeathers."

The owl munched happily on the dish for a few moments before its eyes closed in contentment and it spread its wings, zipping up and through the tiny open window near the ceiling where it had entered.

 _Dear Pansy,_ the note read.

 _Your sister requests that you visit as soon as possible._

It was obviously hurriedly written and left unsigned. Probably one of the Rennies. She'd never bothered to learn their names anyway, so it didn't matter which one. Still, they didn't have to refer to her sister. Owls got intercepted all the time. If anyone knew, all of her well-placed plans would fall apart. Even the Parkinson family name would have limited influence on a group of Aurors, especially if Potter or Weasley were part of the team.

Another souffle appeared on her table as well as a mug of fresh pumpkin juice, but Pansy just scowled at it. The note had soured her appetite. She crumpled it up and threw it into the fire, giving one of the House Elves a sour look when it glared at her.

Her sister didn't know anything at all. Sure, she'd gone a bit more...extreme...in her revenge scheme then she'd originally planned, but it wasn't as though it was a bad plan, all in all. She'd just force Snape to tell her how he'd fooled everyone for so long before she killed him. Of course, by then, Hermione would be a long-dead, bloodless husk on the ground. Pansy knew that there was always a price to be paid for achieving an end. And in this case, she would pay it gladly.

Mind control could work on her parents just as well as it could work on Draco, after all. She touched her tongue to her canines and wondered if her fangs would be like longer versions of what she already had or if they'd grow in. She'd avoided doing any of the more tedious research on vampire physiology because it had never been important to know, but she had a basic idea. After all, vampires lived for hundreds of years, easy. How hard could sucking blood actually be?

In any case, she figured that she'd be finding out the answer to that question soon.

* * *

It was nearly sunset by the time Hyacinth and Lars found themselves finally spent from feeding on one another in more than one manner. They lay together in the sweat-soaked sheets, their alabaster skin nearly glistening in the aftermath of their exertions. Their cheeks and chests were red as their shared blood pumped deep into their bodies giving them both a flushed look.

"That...was...amazing…" Hyacinth panted, her voice raw from screaming in ecstasy. "Even more intense than when we…."

"It is tied to the power level and innate compatibility of both the vampire and sire," Lars said thoughtfully, his voice rough and deep. "I am unfamiliar with anyone who fits these qualifications."

"What about Severus?" Hyacinth asked, trying to sound casual even as her pulse quickened. It would look bad if she could be connected in any way to the professor, especially if anyone ever found out of her sister's involvement as well.

"He never fully bonded with his Master, so his abilities have always been subpar compared to most vampires, even those who are newly turned," Lars replied dismissively, "I know Sanguini well. We were... _comrades_...for a time. He was very ashamed that it happened the way it did, that it was interrupted before the Change had fully taken, so it was anyone's guess as to whether or not he'd actually turn."

"I always knew he was odd for a vampire, but I didn't realize it was that bad," Hyacinth replied with a puzzled expression, "Perhaps that's why he's never taken Rennies?"

"I always assumed it was because he didn't exactly _choose_ his current state and knows how the effects of a vampire bite affects someone's judgement." Lars shrugged. "I never understood it, though. It's not as though a Rennie cannot consent to be bitten before it actually happens. If you ask me, it's just asking for trouble not to have Rennies on hand, especially since Severus could easily find himself stuck in a place without an establishment like ours nearby and end up prowling the streets sick with the Need like the villain in a common dime-store vampire novel."

Hyacinth snorted. "Personally, I think that it's because he just doesn't trust anyone. I see the way he looks at everyone, as though we're about to stab him in the back."

"Well, to be fair, he was already stabbed in the _front_...with a great bloody snake." Lars replied blithely, which made Hyacinth burst out laughing.

"I know, I know, it's not funny," she said, snickering between words, "But the way you made it sound…"

They grew quiet and held one another close for a time as they thought about who could have caused such a powerful shock wave of power. No doubt vampires within a hundred mile radius were shagging their brains out as well.

"You know," Lars said thoughtfully, "I hope I find out who it is who caused such a powerful wave of Siring Magic so that I can thank them. This afternoon has been...immensely memorable."

"Immensely memorable does not even begin to describe it," Hyacinth purred back, looking up at her husband with huge, adoring eyes.

They'd both drifted into a sated, sleepy state when suddenly a loud knock on the bedroom door sounded and Hyacinth swore loudly as Pansy's shrill voice called out from the other side.

"SIS?! ARE YOU IN THERE?!" Pansy yelled through the thick door. "YOUR STUPID RENNIES KEEP TELLING ME THAT YOU'RE NOT TO BE DISTURBED, BUT YOU SENT ME THIS IMPORTANT NOTE THAT SAYS YOU HAVE TO SEE ME AS SOON AS POSSIBLE AND I FINALLY GOT THE CHANCE TO GET AWAY FROM HOGWARTS. I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'RE DOING RIGHT NOW BUT I'M COMING IN!"

The doorknob rattled and Hyacinth did the only thing she could think to do. She grabbed the duvet from the floor and flung it over her and her husband just as the door burst open.

"What are you even doing in-OH." Pansy stopped, her face still frozen between scowl and surprise.

"Well, you _did_ say that you didn't care what I was doing," Hyacinth replied with a self-satisfied smirk. "Mind if we continue _doing it_?"

"I...I... _no_! Don't!" Pansy spluttered, turning red as she realized that her sister and brother-in-law were likely not wearing a scrap of clothing under the blanket.

"Then I suggest that, at the very least, you go back out and wait in the hall while we get back into more appropriate attire," Hyacinth replied coolly. "I will speak with you in my office when I am ready."

"Fine." Pansy muttered, staring at the floor.

She turned almost mechanically and rushed out the door, slamming it behind her.

"Ugh," Hyacinth said, once the sound of footsteps retreated into the distance. "I am so glad that you do not have siblings, my love."

"Oh, I have siblings," Lars replied with a playful smirk, "I just have the convenient excuse of multiple thousands of miles to separate me from their shenanigans."

"I may need to take up your strategy once all of this is over," Hyacinth replied flatly as she slid into a green silk dress and flipped her hair out over the high neck so that it cascaded down her back in an alluring manner.

"Don't worry," Lars replied, grinning wickedly from the bed before letting out a large, languid yawn. "I know you can handle it. You always do."

Hyacinth smiled even as her husband's yawn had set her off as well. Even though vampires did not need to breathe as often as human beings, they were just as susceptible to reflexive yawning for some mysterious reason. But Hyacinth would yawn a thousand times a day if she could guarantee that she could wake up to her husband's smile. She'd truly meant it when she'd vowed to be at his side forever.

And if Pansy didn't fuck everything up, Hyacinth hoped she could keep that promise.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: Taking A Bite Out of Tradition**

"You did _WHAT_?!" Hyacinth screeched.

"So what? It was just a marzipan duck. And I didn't eat the whole thing." Pansy looked nonplussed as her sister loomed over her with fire in her eyes.

"Did you think, for even one moment, that there might be a reason it was under a protective glass covering?" Hyacinth said, her voice going dangerously quiet.

"Well, yeah, but isn't that how most people keep their sweets from attracting flies and going stale?" Pansy replied, blinking with bewilderment.

"Then you are even _more_ stupid than I thought!" Hyacinth roared. "That was my wedding cake topper! I even had it placed under a stasis spell so that it would never rot or melt in hot temperatures! And you _ate_ it!"

"Look, I didn't mean to take a bite out of something so important to you!" Pansy replied, her confusion making way for anger of her own, "But you have got to admit that you didn't exactly put it in the best place. And when I see a duck, I don't exactly connect it with the thought of romantic, life altering vows."

"There were two of them." Hyacinth said, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "The first is to be eaten by the bride and groom on their wedding day, together. The second is to be eaten once they reach their hundredth wedding anniversary. It is part of vampiric tradition that goes back many centuries."

"I've never heard of this tradition. How do I know you're not simply making it up?" Pansy replied, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

After all, she knew that Hyacinth was Slytherin, and rather clever too. This could all be a guilt trip. Pansy's eyes narrowed to slits and her bottom lip puffed out defiantly as she crossed her arms and waited for Hyacinth to respond.

"UGH! FINE!" Hyacinth threw up her arms and stomped over to the bookcase behind her desk and rummaged around on the second to last shelf.

Finally, she pulled out a large black leather photo album and flipped through it until she found the page she was looking for.

"THERE'S YOUR PROOF!" She shouted as she turned the open book around and thrust it into Pansy's face.

A moving photograph showed Hyacinth and Lars dressed up in traditional wedding clothing and feeding one another half of a marzipan duck while the other sat on the top of the cake in front of them. The scene played over and over mere inches from Pansy's nose and she went pink with embarrassment.

"But...but….I thought vampires didn't eat normal food!" Pansy sputtered, grasping at straws.

"We don't derive any nutritional benefit from it, this is true," Hyacinth replied, her eyes still full of anger, "But small amounts of homogenous foods such as almond paste or pudding can be digested normally, which is why we eat the small piece of marzipan duck instead of a big wedding feast and pieces of cake. Besides, it's a wedding. If you didn't eat something you normally wouldn't, it just wouldn't be right."

"But why a duck, then?" Pansy replied stupidly, her brain stuck on that odd bit of information that just seemed to make no sense whatsoever.

"Why NOT a duck?" Hyacinth replied exasperatedly. "I didn't come up with the tradition. We just observed it, that's all."

"I could just have another made," Pansy said, rolling her eyes, "There's really no need to get melodramatic about it."

"It's the _principle_ of the thing, _Pansy_!" Hyacinth exclaimed.

Pansy shrank backwards, knowing that when her sister started calling her by name, she'd definitely crossed the line.

"I'm already having a hell of a day, and you show up and add to my misery!" Hyacinth roared, sticking a rigid finger under Pansy's nose accusatorily. "I'm _glad_ you're ok, I really, _really_ am, but I'm also furious that you would take such liberties with my personal items! And if I find out that you've done anything, and I mean _anything_ , to jeapordize my business or interfere with my... _accommodations_...I will have no problems turning you over to the proper authorities!"

"Are you saying that you think the Auror's office is going to get involved?" Pansy asked, her face going pale with worry.

"Oh no, Pansy," Hyacinth said, her voice dropping to an almost feral growl. "Much, much worse. But let me spell it out for you since you seem to be especially thick today. If the High Council sends a Viper, you will _wish_ that the Aurors came for you first and put you in a nice dreary cell in Azkaban."

Pansy paled even more and gulped rather loudly.

"Oh, yes, be _very_ afraid, Pansy," Hyacinth continued, her voice growing husky with fatigue from all of the yelling she'd been doing, "Because if a Viper decides that you're prey, there is nowhere on the planet that you can run and truly escape."

"But I only-" Pansy began shakily only to be summarily shushed by her sister.

"I don't even want to _know_ what you've done," Hyacinth hissed. "The less I know, the more I can protect myself, my husband, my Rennies, my business. You may be my sister, Pansy, but you are not worth putting myself in the crosshairs of a Death Strike."

"What are you saying?" Pansy's eyes were huge with fright now, as she finally grasped the enormity of her situation. She had no way of knowing if the Council was alerted to her acts, but just the thought of an invisible vampiric assassin out to end her life made her skin crawl.

"I am saying, dear sister," Hyacinth replied, "that you had better clean up your mess before a Viper comes to make a mess of you."

Pansy's hands shook as she stood and she wobbled unstably on her legs as she backed up towards the door.

"Y...you're just scaring me, that's it!" she stammered as she reached the door. "Y...you're just mad from earlier when I barged in on you and for the duck….that's right! You're just trying to give me a fright!"

"You know that's not true," Hyacinth replied, her voice serious and even as she stared at her younger sister.

"Fine! I get that I'm not wanted! Fuck your stupid duck. Fuck your dumbass fangfaced traditions. Fuck _you_!" Pansy shouted as she slammed the door behind her.

Pansy's angry footsteps thundered down the hall until they had faded away completely.

Hyacinth sat down in the leather chair behind the desk with a deep sigh and looked at the duck, whose tail was now quite obviously missing, the perfect imprint of Pansy's tiny, straight teeth embedded in the marzipan.

"What am I going to do about you? And for that matter, what am I going to do about my harebrained sister?" she wondered aloud, her voice tinged with despair.

The marzipan duck, of course, said nothing, its dull green eyes staring lifelessly at the wall behind her.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Abnormal Influences**

Pansy had worked herself into a right state by the time she finally reached the crumbling front porch of the Shrieking Shack. She'd doubled back and taken another direction through Hogsmeade after hearing sounds that might have been footsteps following her, though she saw no one other than a couple of witches and wizards on the main street hurrying home to start dinner with their grocery bags.

The Shack looked the same as it had the night before. Even the railing was still on the ground in the bushes where it had fallen with her. Just the sight of it brought back the nausea from the night before and it rose evilly in her belly. But she also felt a surge of hope that perhaps, her sister was simply overreacting because she hadn't been told in person by Snape that her request had been fulfilled.

Pansy desperately hoped that this was the case.

Pansy wondered if she could force him to write a letter for her so that her sister would calm down.

There would be plenty of time for Aurors and Vipers to come and take Snape away when she was finished framing him for murder.

Pansy knew that her sister was a bit of a worrier. She had to be, as her business skirted the tenuous space between nightclub and blood brothel (though Rennies were expressly forbidden to take payment for their services). To access the Red Room, one paid a monthly "subscriber fee" to be allowed entry. Rennies that were part of Hyacinth and Lars' group were paid salaries, with a monthly bonus for the one who took on the most clients, but all other Rennies either had to offer their services for free or be barred from entry.

Hyacinth had confided in her sister that there were many Bite Tourists and First Timers who paid well for the chance to be bitten. And there were small alcoves and secluded salons in the back of the Red Room for more... _private_ activities.

Pansy, had never gone into the Red Room herself, though. She'd heard of what went on in there, of course, but Hyacinth refused to allow her sister to offer herself as a donor.

"It is...not something you would enjoy," she had said, her eyes flicking to the side.

Pansy knew that look. It was the same thing she did when she was trying to convince someone of something that would primarily benefit herself.

As she thought more about it, she realized that Hyacinth, in her way, was being somewhat protective of her sister. Pansy could see that if she were rolled by one of the regular solo vamps, it would be easy to use her as a way to get things out of her sister. At least, that's what she would do if she were a morally corrupt vampire.

After all, she was not a vampire. Yet.

Yet, as she thought on it, her idea to forcibly take on the Change became even more attractive. She just needed to suck Snape's blood. How hard could it be?

She tried to imagine doing it and shuddered with disgust.

Still, if she could finally have Draco...she shook her head and resolved that she would not let a bit of temporary unpleasantness stop her from her goal.

And all of Hyacinth's cautionary words about the limitations of becoming a creature of the night seemed now as though they were just a lie that had been created to keep her from reaching her full power...her full _potential_.

Pansy had always craved power. Though she would never admit it to anyone else, she knew that she was a second rate witch at the best of times. But that was only when she was really trying. In all honesty, it was both humiliating and galling to come from a pure blooded family and have limited magical talent. In some ways, it was worse than being a Squib because at least they couldn't help it.

Instead, Pansy was often accused by the adults in her life of simply being lazy, which of course she sometimes was, but no more so than the others in her year. She just didn't have any real talents or interests other than being popular and being noticed by Draco.

She had loved him the moment she met him, as ridiculous as it sounded. And when she found out who he was, she had dreamed of marrying him until it nearly consumed her.

For he had been the only one who had stayed with her and said kind things when he'd entered her compartment on her first voyage to Hogwarts. He too had a wand with a unicorn hair core, which Pansy had been horribly embarrassed about after her father railed on and on about how a dragon heartstring or Phoenix feather were the only proper wand cores worth having.

"Unicorn hair is weak!" he'd shouted at her, once they got home from Ollivanders. "Is that it then, Pansy? Are you weak? Oh, I _knew_ we should have tried for a boy!"

But when Draco told her that he was a Malfoy and that he had a unicorn hair core as well, Pansy had nearly fainted with relief. And she'd been doubly relieved when she was placed in Slytherin. She was fairly certain that being Sorted into Hufflepuff (which was her secret fear) would make her parents disown her. This fear was not fully unfounded, especially not with the black smudge on their family tapestry. And Pansy was fairly sure that being a Hufflepuff would have been considered by her parents to be worse than Hyacinth becoming a vampire. At least vampires had extra abilities. Most pure-blooded families of note believed that Hufflepuff was the dirty Mudblood House, and there were some, like Pansy's father, who believed that being both Hufflepuff and pure-blooded made one an automatic blood traitor.

But now, Pansy was finding that she honestly didn't care what her father and mother would think. For all of her sister's abilities and achievements, lying to her parents didn't seem to be one of them. Pansy was different. Lying came to her easily. She would fool them and then, when they were least expecting it, she would strike and take control. She was good at getting into leadership roles she didn't deserve. It had been easy to become Prefect after she'd strategically taken credit for the work of others. Even Snape and Slughorn had been fooled!

 _Snape...what a bastard!_

Her eyes narrowed as she thought of the vampire trapped in the rooms beyond her sealing wards. She'd never have been able to do them herself _before_ , she knew. That's why she had her secret weapon. It made things fair.

For _her_ , that is.

She pulled the small silver dagger from the hidden sheath against her thigh and ran her finger down the flat edge of the blade until she reached the hilt, her finger tracing the intricate carvings in the handle as though stroking a living creature.

"We know how to get him back," she said, her voice splitting as though another, more manic mouth was speaking in unison with her, "We will get him to love us. Oh yes, he will. Forever and ever."

As Pansy shook with slightly hysterical laughter, she could hear a high pitched cackle rising alongside her.

 _Yes. With this power, Draco shall be mine._

 _ **Forever**_ _._


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note:** ;) Ok, guys, there's going to be some sexy bits and then some plot and then things are going to get a bit...intense. Hold onto your hats, ok?

* * *

 **Chapter 17: Torn**

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the sexual energy between Severus and Hermione began to increase by leaps and bounds until both were at one another's throats, snarling and moaning as their fingernails clawed into each other's backs, the blood welling up around their fangs in thick rivulets as they suckled and fed.

Connected once more, she rode him until he shuddered with release, and then he rolled on top of her and pressed into her in exactly the way she needed with his cock, her nerve endings sparking with magical blue arcs of power as they shot through her body and danced on her skin.

She was already so full in every way possible and yet, she wanted more. Her womb ached in time to the beat of her heart, which had begun again in earnest and this was still not enough for Hermione. She wanted to give of herself in equal measure until neither could rightly say where one ended and the other began. She wanted to mark herself with his scent until it surrounded her as thoroughly as though it was her own.

The thought was insistent, unending and maddening as it thrummed under her skin.

 _Connect to me, Severus. Be mine and let me be yours. Forever._

All she wanted was pure, simple _connection_. It was a craving that tugged at her chest like a chord of energy pulled taut between them. And slowly, as the moments wore on, she could feel him pressing back. Tiny threads of thoughts began to intertwine like tendrils of smoke, words no longer necessary as their bodies focused on improving the intimate machinations they'd begun.

Hermione focused her thoughts, projecting her desire and growing love straight into his mind. She beamed with satisfaction when he cried out at the intensity of her need for him. He bucked mindlessly against her body and she grew ambitious, sending him waves of her own sensation. His eyes snapped open and he bit his lip until scarlet fluid stained the corner of his mouth.

And then, as though a light had been switched on, Hermione's head was filled with an almost overwhelming burst of pleasure that she knew was not from her body, but _his_. Her eyes went wide with wonder as she experienced his tender yet firm movements from above her, building ripples of sensation all the way to her core. It was as though her body was a lightning rod of pleasure that arced through his body until his nerves felt like they might burst, and she longed to burst alongside him. She felt her body rolling and sliding slick with sweat under him as his mind poured the sensation of his body upon hers and she returned the favor until they were both mindless with need. She couldn't help but feel the depth of his love for her as he filled her to bursting. It was like a wave of heat and light that poured over her, stealing away her breath as she gasped and writhed beneath him, her mind begging him to fill her again and again until she overflowed.

She was attached to his shoulder, her growing fangs buried deep in his skin as he growled with completion and pushed her over the edge as well. Their minds were connected as their bodies throbbed and sang with orgasm, and the shared sensation seemed to push them both into a nearly mindless state of bliss as they collapsed in a heap, their bodies twitching with the energy of their bond.

 _My love, my mate, my heart. Do you truly accept me with all that you are and all that you will be?_

His thoughts were like a caress upon her very soul and she choked out a tiny moan from her lips as the pleasure of his words rippled over spent body.

 _Forever and beyond, Severus. That is how much I love you._

As the words reached his mind, the humid, musky air in the room grew thick with power, and a golden light began to build between them until their skin was glowing and had gone nearly translucent.

Hermione gasped as her eyes finally adjusted to the brightness and she looked at Severus.

His veins and capillaries shone like gold as they wove through his body like pulsing thread. She could see how they all connected to the shining heart beating in his chest. Even his eyes and hair appeared to have gone golden and they glittered like stardust.

He was _beautiful_.

The thought was instant and Hermione knew the moment he heard her by the way his eyes softened around the edges, his breath coming out ragged as he brought himself closer to her until they were nose to nose.

"You...are... _transcendent_.." Severus breathed, his voice raw and soft against her lips.

His fangs had withdrawn and his eyes were half lidded as he gazed down at her. And in that moment, Hermione knew then that he was seeing her heart beat as well.

"Kiss me, Severus. Please...I can't..." Hermione panted, feeling the power pressing her back against the bed until she could barely move.

A moment of uncertainty filled her as his body went rigid above her and then...his lips were upon hers and the light grew so bright that she had to close her eyes tightly to stop the pain of it from overwhelming her.

A sharp burning heat seared her lips and with a sound like the rushing of great wings, the light began to swell. Hermione could feel her body changing as the ancient power filled her, but none of that mattered because Severus was there, he was connected with her, he was-

From what seemed like very, very far away, she heard someone shout "What the _fuck_?!"

And with a sharp stab of pain beyond any that Hermione had ever experienced, she felt the light cut out completely as she and Severus were wrenched horribly apart in total darkness.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note:** This is a really dark chapter. Triggers for rape and serious nonconsensual sexaul assault abound. Please proceed with caution. I will be honest with you. Writing this chapter kinda broke my heart.

* * *

 **Chapter 18: Do I Not Bleed?**

The ward wasn't orange.

"What...the... _hell_?" Pansy said slowly, her brow furrowing as she approached the bright blue barrier, which seemed to swirl with smoky gray smoke behind it.

Without really thinking, she held her hand out, her fingers quivering slightly as they drew close. She felt drawn to touch it, but she realized that this was a terrible idea the moment her fingertip brushed lightly against the outer layer of the ward.

Too late.

Moments later, she'd nearly taken down the opposite wall after slamming into it so hard that it knocked the wind out of her. She coughed in the dusty aftermath and instantly regretted it, her ribs aching terribly. Though nothing seemed broken, her normally silky smooth hair now stuck wildly out around her head and she cursed as she glanced down and saw that the tips of her fingers on her left hand appeared to be rather singed.

 _My blade is strong enough to cut through anything, my dear._

The high-pitched cackle filled her head and Pansy's mouth curled up into an insane grin as she pulled out the dagger.

Of course. It was perfect.

She'd pulled the blade and was turning back to face the ward when she realized that it was pulsing again, a golden sheen evening out the mottled gray and the lightning blue.

 _Quick! We must break it!_

The thought was insistent, though she knew it was not her own.

 _Slash! Slash like you're slitting the mudblood from chin to pubic bone like the cow she is!_

Pansy hesitated. Getting her hands bloody wasn't her style. She'd much rather dispose of her enemies indirectly. But then the voice screeched so loudly and her head throbbed so horribly for a moment before she felt her hand move as though on its own accord, cutting a wide arc through the ward as though splitting the belly of a great beast.

Immediately, a flood of light poured from the gash, pouring around her in rivulets and smashing out through the windows until it dissipated into the sky. The ward stood for a short time after before it broke completely, leaving tiny bits of smoke and blue sparks behind.

"What the _fuck_!?" Pansy screamed as the light began to dissipate and she briefly saw two naked figures moving together on the bed in a manner that made her belly twist with heat.

But then, the light died abruptly, and she was left holding her wand in one hand and the dagger in the other, both pointed towards the room.

" _Lumos_!" she cried out, blinking fiercely to clear the afterimage of light from her eyes.

There was silence as the dust settled and she tentatively leaned forward, her wand arm extended into the smoky darkness beyond.

Something small and furry hit her square in the face, biting and scratching horribly. She flailed and screamed as it beat against her hair, causing her to drop the dagger. Pansy waved her wand around hysterically and cast an Expulsion Curse. It caught the creature on the side of its horrible head, and with a little piteous squeak, it went spinning through the window and out into the night.

"Ugh. It was probably living in the ceiling or something," she grumbled to herself. Her head was throbbing too badly for her to think straight, but she had the niggling feeling that she'd somehow forgotten something important.

She approached the bed and noticed that Snape was lying on his belly with his face to the side, his eyes closed and apparently unconscious. He was also utterly and completely naked, which nearly caused Pansy to cover her eyes and drop her wand before she was able to stop herself. She made certain to cast a Total Body Bind on him, just in case he was trying to trick her.

After all, she may have been stupid, but she wasn't _that_ stupid.

Looking around the rest of the room, she lit the torches she'd set into the wall sconces and frowned when she realized that not only was Snape _not_ tethered by the silver manacles she'd stolen from her sister's "special playroom" in the basement, but Hermione appeared to be missing. Dread began to grow in her belly as she thought of the possibilities.

What had they been doing in here?

The thought nagged at her, and she put her hand to the leather holster for the dagger in an unconscious habit, her eyes growing wide when she realized she'd dropped it.

Frantically, she dropped to her hands and knees, searching until she'd found it at last. It was lying in a pile of dust and debris against the far wall, and she nearly kissed it as she picked it up, feeling the power fill her again even as her head throbbed a little.

 _There, now, that's better._

The voice in her head sounded relieved beyond belief, and she felt rather guilty for forgetting about the dagger. She slipped it into the holster and snapped it into place.

 _What's this? He's a bit_ _ **underdressed**_ _, don't you think? Tee hee hee._

The cackle was loud in her ear as though the speaker was standing next to her, though Pansy knew this wasn't the case. It hasn't been like that before. Just feelings, a sense of knowing things she knew she couldn't. Sometimes, it was rather annoying. But the power it gave her was intoxicating and she just couldn't give it up no matter how hard she tried.

"It's disgusting, that's what it is," Pansy said aloud, the contempt thick in her voice.

 _Oh, really? You wouldn't fancy a shag with him, then?_

"Oh _gross_ ," Pansy replied, utterly revolted.

But then her mind suddenly brought back the image of the outline of the two naked bodies moving together in a way that couldn't be explained away as anything innocent. Her cheeks went scarlet and she gulped loudly. Was...that...Hermione...with... _Professor Snape_?

"Oh god. Oh fuck fuck fuck," she muttered, as the images connected.

 _Can you smell it? Oh, it's been ages since I've smelled such a strong scent of lust. It's quite intoxicating, isn't it?_

"Where is the Gryffindor bitch, then?" Pansy wondered aloud, walking around the bed slowly as though expecting to be assaulted by the _Gryffindor_ _bitch_ in question.

But there was nothing there. She looked under the bed, in the closet, even up at the rafters.

Hermione was gone.

 _How could you let her escape?_

The accusation stung.

"Shut up, shut up, _shut up_!" she said, shaking her head back and forth as though trying to clear it. "You're just a voice in my head. You're one to talk!"

 _We'll deal with the mudblood later. First thing's first. Cut him and take his blood. You'll need a large amount if you really want to take on the Change._

"But...but...he's n-n-aked!" Pansy spluttered.

 _So is a Christmas Goose. You wouldn't have any problem eating that. Now come on. Levitate him onto the bed. It'll be easier than the floor._

Pansy groaned, but did as the voice had advised, half-covering her eyes with her free hand and nearly dropping him to the floor again when his prone body shifted to the side and she saw what he'd been hiding before.

 _Wow. Who would have known he was hiding something like_ _ **that**_ _under his robes?_

The voice chuckled nastily and Pansy blushed even redder.

He was frozen in place, but apparently the curse had frozen more than just his arms and legs. His erection was quite prominent as he lay on his side, and though she knew he couldn't cover it up considering that he was frozen by her Total Body Bind and probably unconscious on top of that, it still felt to Pansy as though he were sexually harassing her.

Which made her angry.

Anger was useful. It was easier to handle than embarrassment. It was so much easier to do what she needed to do when she could force herself to believe that he deserved all of this.

 _Fancy a ride on that, then?_

The voice cackled again and Pansy felt her anger swell and the knot of sexual frustration grew larger as the vision of that tiny glimpse of the two together flashed before her eyes.

"No. I don't...I never…" Pansy licked her lips, despite herself.

 _Oh, stop lying to yourself. It's not cheating on Draco if you do it, you know. You're still broken up. You can get back together with him when you're fully Changed and there will be no issue._

But...but…" Pansy spluttered, trying to come up with a good reason to ignore the rising tide of lust that filled her. "But...it's _Snape_! Gross!"

 _You don't have to marry him. Just_ _ **use**_ _him. You're going to take his blood anyway. Might as well take something else as well._

The voice had a point. A twisted, horrible point, but a point nonetheless.

Maybe it was the energy that had hit her, maybe it was the purring voice whispering all manner of things, maybe it was simply that something broke in her mind after having done so many terrible things already, but Pansy began to rationalize the merits of sorting out her horniness by using what was before her.

Besides, he deserved it by being naked and randy.

She tried to ignore a less insistent voice, the one that had always been with her that told her what she was doing was despicable, that she'd become something more than just the selfish bitch she'd always been proud to call herself.

That she was becoming _**evil**_.

 _Don't be silly. There's no such thing as evil. Only power, and those who are strong enough to wield it._

The words seemed familiar, but Pansy couldn't remember where she'd heard it before. The voice crooned and cajoled her, and like before, she felt her body moving as though on its own. She tossed her robes to the side, leaving her only in the skirt and shirt she wore underneath. Then she slipped her panties off, leaving everything else on and approached the prone man, pushing him to the side until he was on his back, his erect member standing at attention in his frozen state and drawing her eye as she watched it hungrily.

"I...I don't know if it will...fit…." she said uncertainly, balking a bit as she climbed onto the mattress and straddled his legs.

 _You're a witch, Pansy. There are plenty of ways to make it fit, you know._

The voice whispered a few spells to Pansy that she'd never heard before, but that, once she tried them, she had to admit were quite useful indeed. She had to stand over him to position herself properly and as she looked down, she couldn't help but see his face, tilted to the side and looking away from her. Though she knew it was a trick of the torchlight, she thought she saw his eyes going glassy and shimmering with unshed tears as she brought herself down upon him slowly, burying herself to the hilt with a moan of pleasure and a sharp intake of breath.

 _Keep going then, love. In for a penny, in for a pound. And he's going to need a bit more pounding than that, isn't he?_

The cackling laughter in her head filled her mind as she began to move on top of him, her eyes wide and far away as the sensation filled her and she thought of Draco and tried to ignore the physical reality of what she was doing and who she was doing it to.

As Pansy moaned and moved more forcefully, chasing her orgasm as the voice whispered horrible things, she didn't notice the tiny trail of moisture flowing slowly from the corner of his eye.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Fury and Flight**

Hermione's body and mind were on fire with pain. As the light went out, she saw a massive figure standing at the doorway, framed by the beautiful golden energy as it escaped the room and plunged them into darkness. She flung herself with all her might at the unknown assailant, clawing and biting with mindless rage.

How _dare_ anyone destroy what she and Severus had made together to protect themselves while he Changed her?

How _dare_ anyone plunge them into cold and terrible darkness?

How _dare_ anyone lay a hand on her mate, her love, her _life_?

The figure flailed, screaming with fear and surprise and Hermione felt her mouth contort in a snarl as she tried to sink her teeth into the gigantic interloper's skin. But just as she found purchase, clawing and kicking as hard as she could, she was hit on the side of the head by a bright flash of blue light and knocked half-senseless as she felt herself propelled away from her target at top speed. She screamed with fury as she landed hard in the canopy of a tree, the air knocked out of her, and she crawled weakly onto a branch before she could not force her eyes to stay open any longer. The world seemed to be spinning and blaring and throbbing with pain, and in seconds she knew no more.

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes gingerly, her ears swiveling on her head as she listened for the sound of movement around her.

 _Wait...what?_

She tried to open her mouth, but found the movement odd. It felt wrong, somehow. Crossing her eyes, she realized that she no longer had a proper human nose but a fleshy muzzle made of intricate folds of skin. And she gasped in her head as she tried to bring her hand to her nose and found herself face to face with a wing.

 _A bat's wing._

Hermione looked down to find that her belly was now covered with a fine coat of fur, and she squeaked in surprise as she realized that the branch she was lying upon was at least twenty feet off the ground.

Hermione tried to still the panic that beat in her chest as she remembered in a flash the shadowy figure, the burst of light, the pain...there was also the crushing guilt that she'd been unable to help Severus, that she'd been tossed aside by that horrible spell like she was nothing.

 _I need my wand. No. First I need to not be a bat. No, actually, first, I need to get out of this tree without plummeting to my doom. And then I'm going to make that bastard pay._

She ran her tongue over her teeth and realized that she had quite a number of sharp incisors in the front of her mouth. Teeth made for drawing blood. A snuffling squeaking noise erupted from her throat as she laughed ironically at her circumstance.

She was a bloody _vampire bat._

It took a few tries to get at least semi-competent at the art of gliding on her membranous wings. Hermione was rather proud when she finally managed to lift off a few inches from the branch she was perched upon before colliding into a tuft of leaves. One had nearly gone up her nose while another had flown into her mouth and she spat it out with an irritated snort. She couldn't quite tell how long she'd been unconscious but it was still night, so she hoped that not much time had passed.

 _I need to get back to Severus. I must protect him!_

The darkness of the night seemed subdued with her new vision, and she wondered at how nimble the vampire bat's limbs were. Vaguely, she remembered an article she'd read about bats years ago. Vampire bats, apparently, were quite adept at walking and hopping as well as flying. If one had to be a bat, Hermione supposed, a vampire bat was probably one of the best as bats go, though she knew they were far less cute than the so-called "flying foxes."

But at the moment, her level of cuteness was the last thing on her mind. She needed to get down from the tree without turning into a furry pancake on the rocky ground below, and she needed to figure out how to become human again, and preferably somehow get her wand back.

 _One thing at a time, Hermione. Just focus on flight._

Hermione had never been a big fan of trees or heights, especially not after that one time she'd flown a broom a bit too close to the Whomping Willow and very narrowly avoided a large, deadly branch. But it was a bit different when it was her body that was doing the flying. Hermione knew that she was strong, now more than ever due to her daily exercise and strength training.

 _I can do this. I can fly. I can… oh god, I'm mad, I'm barking mad, oh god, I'm so high up…._ _ **NO**_ _! I will do this! I will fly. I will!_

With a determined squeak, Hermione made her way to the trunk of the tree and turned around, using the branch like an improvised runway. She knew she'd have to get enough lift to clear the tuft of leaves that had foiled her before or she'd have a rather nasty landing.

 _Don't think. Just...spread your...er...wings...and fly!_

Gamboling across the bark, she snapped her wings open at the apex of her speed and shut her eyes, hoping desperately that they'd catch the wind. A moment of terror as the branch fell away under her and then….the membranous wings on each of her arms billowed full of air and she was up, high above the tree, her body in full flight.

She squeaked with joy as her heart soared and she looked down at the landscape below, trying to get her bearings. Gliding was easy, but turning proved to cause some difficulties as she ended up twisting her wings like a corkscrew and spinning in circles. Eventually, though, she managed to find the river that ran through the Forbidden Forest and into Hogsmeade- a fat, dark, watery snake cutting through the landscape of the treeline. Hogsmeade would not be far.

She longed to be connected to him. It felt as though she were incomplete and her body ached with the memory of his against it. The real question that gnawed at her was the puzzle of what she'd become. She knew she wasn't a proper vampire, not yet. But she wasn't exactly human any longer, either.

What, _exactly_ , was she?

Logically, Hermione knew that most vampires could not sire within a mere two day period. Ordinarily, it took at least two to three weeks for the Change to fully take. But Hermione knew that what she'd experienced with Severus was something unlike anything she'd ever read about. The golden light upon her body, the sprouting of new fangs so early on in the process….she hungered not only for him but for the truth behind it all.

And if someone got in the way of them, god help them, she'd tear them apart.

* * *

Erheldt Schmertz was sitting quietly in his room with a cup of tea and a nice thick tome on Applied Astromancy when the messenger arrived through his open window. Her form shimmered in the air and her human body shifted like quicksilver into being. She bent over, trying desperately to gulp in as much air as possible. She was nearly out of breath as she'd obviously flown as fast as possible in the crisp night air.

"Sir, you've been summoned for a job!" the vampire sputtered, her fangs slightly slipping over her bottom lip as she panted.

Erheldt simply looked over the top of his book with a bemused expression and gestured to the table with a long fingered hand.

"I shall be happy to do so once I've finished my tea," he rumbled, his voice rich and full of power.

The vampire messenger gave him a look of awe. She obviously knew that not just any vampire could blithely set aside urgent requests from the Council, but then again, he was Erheldt Schmertz, one of the first of the Vipers. Some said that he was old enough to have seen Mesopotamia in its heyday.

Erheldt Schmertz was not his real, true name, but it was a name he liked, so he'd kept it. His even, olive skin and closely cropped chinstrap beard gave him a somewhat regal, leonine appearance. This likeness was only helped by the fact that his hair was thick, black and curly, framing his head in a wild yet classy mane that cascaded down to the nape of his neck. His chest was broad, which was accentuated by his burgundy vest and his arms appeared muscular and thick in the white shirtsleeves he wore, though he normally covered his physique in a classy suit that looked as though it had been custom tailored to his shape and flattered him considerably.

"Sir!" the delivery vampire said, pulling a small spiral notebook from her pocket, "Please press your seal here to confirm the delivery, if you wouldn't mind!"

"Oh, most certainly," Erheldt replied with a friendly grin, pulling his wand and summoning his seal kit to his side from the desk.

She approached him slowly, her fangs retracting submissively as she closed the distance between them. She obviously knew that she was in the presence of great power. All vampires could feel it to some extent and it kept the old hierarchies in place. The more ancient one was, the more powerful their musk. For an ancient vampire like Erheldt, he would merely need to look in the general direction of a possible feed and they'd be jumping at the chance, man or woman.

He pressed the seal into the parchment with a smile, his thick, kissable lips drawn back slightly, revealing pristine, white teeth.

He did not need to show her his fangs to prove his power, and it was with much difficulty that she backed up and bowed her head slightly before leaping through the open window that she'd entered and transforming into her bat form in one fluid motion.

Erheldt watched the tiny creature disappear into the night, his expression thoughtful as he watched the beat of her wings disappear into the distance before he set down the book and finished the last sip of his tea.

"Ahh," he sighed, picking up the lavender colored envelope, "They only send this color when one has been very, very naughty."

He opened the envelope and scanned the words inside, pulling a small photograph from the envelope as well.

"Interesting," he mused, sliding his finger against the ink, which smudged slightly. "Unexpected surge of Siring energy in Scotland affecting vampires as far south as London? Curiouser and curiouser. Why, I haven't seen one of those since 1217. But that's not the reason to authorize-ah! There. Looks like someone _has_ been rather naughty. Siring more than one in less than a two day period? Oh, tsk tsk tsk. And not even a century old? Whatever shall I do? Well, this should not take long, in any case."

He placed the card and the attached photo on the end table and strode to his room to prepare. He'd need his full kit for this sort of job.

After all, one had to be prepared for all eventualities when a Death Strike had been ordered.

A bright rectangle of light shone on the table as he flipped the lightswitch in his closet, illuminating the photo, the target's face looking rather sallow in the glow of the yellow bulb.

"Severus Snape, eh?" Erheldt said to himself as he worked, "He's one of Sanguini's, if I'm not mistaken. One of only two in over seven hundred years, if I remember properly. I shall enjoy meeting him. And then, I shall enjoy ending him."

He whistled merrily as he continued to prepare, the sound of heavy objects clunking and rattling as he packed for the nasty work ahead.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20: Reunion**

Hermione's wings beat in a frenzied pace through the sky as she frantically searched for the Shrieking Shack. From the air, most of the buildings looked the same, so she was rather thankful that the Shack was set apart from most of the other buildings. It appeared as a dark, twisted mark upon the ground and she angled into a sharp dive, trying to keep her quivering wings steady.

As she neared the ground, she spread her wings wide and glided as though they were a parachute until she was close enough to the ground to land. She slightly misjudged the speed of her landing and ended up sprawled against a bush, but other than a bruised ego, she was fine. Immediately, she righted herself and hopped up the stairs, feeling horribly silly and awkward at her unusually tiny size.

The door to the Shack was hanging open and the front windows were shattered, giving the appearance of a screaming mouth with sightless eyes. Hermione shuddered at this creepy mental image even as her nose twitched in recognition of a familiar smell.

 _Blood._

 _His blood_.

It was then that she finally noticed the trail of blood leading into the Shack, punctuated by smudged scarlet footprints.

 _Severus! No!_

Her wings went wide and she shot through the doorway and down the hall, thankful for the vampire bat's unusually keen sense of sight.

She followed the trail of blood by scent, her belly churning with fear as it widened and the smell grew stronger. The far side of the hallway looked as though an ocean of red had been spilled against the wooden floor.

When she finally reached the door, which had nearly been torn off its hinges and was hanging open at an odd angle, her need to see him again was so great that she could feel her body shifting on its own, the magic working without a wand. She shot up in height, wings folding and popping into arms, ears aligning back to the sides of her head. Her hair cascaded messily down her naked back and the moment her fingers were fully human again, they flew to her mouth in horror as she beheld the terrible sight that lay within the torchlit room beyond.

Severus lay on his side on the bed, his throat nearly torn out as his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. His body was covered with blood and deep grooves bore into his flesh as though claws had ripped into his skin. There were more smudged red marks on his body and covering the mattress as though someone had been on top of him, feeding from the wound. But what was worse was the fact that he seemed oddly stiff, as though he were a mannequin and not a living person. Rivulets of scarlet liquid still welled up from the wound, but other than the soft tapping sound of blood dripping to the floor, he was utterly silent.

Hermione's mind froze with déjà vu and she flashed back to the time that she'd done nothing to save him because she'd taken Harry's word that Snape was beyond help. She had left him for dead, and she'd never forgive herself for that.

She would not make the same mistake twice.

" _No_!" She choked out the word, tears blurring her vision as she knelt down next to the blood-soaked mattress and frantically searched for something to stop the bleeding.

Without her wand, she was limited, but Hermione Granger was not a quitter. She'd been forced to think on her toes more than once while she was on the run. First, she tore the fitted sheet and did her best to bind his neck wound to slow the blood. But she knew that without dittany and blood replenisher, he'd never have a chance.

 _The handbag!_

The thought filled her with a surge of hope and she dropped to the floor, frantically searching for it. In the end, she found it under the bed near the headboard and she exclaimed with delight once it was in her hands again.

It took some rummaging, but Hermione finally had collected a number of vials and set them out on the floor. She started with the dittany, gingerly pulling back his neck bandage and pouring it on the wound. Pink flesh knit together over the ragged hole almost instantly, the blood slowing and then stopping altogether. She carefully removed the bandage, wetting it with her mouth and dabbing around his face to clean off some of the drying blood as she waited for the dittany to finish working its magic.

She nearly cried out with relief as the skin closed up completely. It still looked shiny and raw, but Hermione couldn't have cared less about the aesthetic quality of her work. Healing was a good sign, for everyone knew that the dead could not heal.

He still wasn't breathing, though. And when she tried to check for a pulse, she couldn't detect anything at all. Of course, it didn't help that she didn't have any formal medical training, but that just made her resolve to do so once this whole bloody mess was over.

 _Maybe I'm too late. Maybe this time...it's just wishful thinking._

At that thought, Hermione's heart beat so frantically that for a moment it felt as though it were about to burst from her chest. Reluctantly, she forced herself to take deep breaths until she finally calmed down enough to steady her hand and she stroked his cheek gently with her hand.

As she touched him, a strange shimmering light seemed to burst and ripple over his body, dissipating into the air. His horrible rigid pose relaxed and he went almost bonelessly limp. She nearly kicked herself for not realizing it before, but she didn't have the ability to cast a diagnostic spell, and she had almost zero experience at breaking curses while wandless. Her hand practically itched to hold her wand again, but she reminded herself that she'd managed to survive just fine for eleven years without one. And sometimes, she found that the muggle way was actually far better at helping solve her problems. She thought hard about what sort of curse he'd been under.

 _The only curse I can think of that makes the body rigid like that is Total Body Bind. But what bastard would do such a thing?_

It was obvious that Severus hadn't had a chance to defend himself against his assailant. And it was all her fault. If she'd pulled away from him and they'd focused on escaping instead of...well...having the best night of her entire life...

She blushed as she thought of all that had happened, only to feel a stab of guilt at her selfishness. Not only had she failed to help him before, during the last battle, but she'd also failed to learn from her mistakes. No matter what she did, it seemed that in the end, she just brought Severus more pain in the end. Healing him now wasn't much consolation. She was merely fixing her mistake, atoning for being a bloody selfish bitch and wanting him for her own.

When _had_ it happened? When had she gone from a begrudging sense of respect to...this aching desire, this sense of undying devotion to protect him at any cost?

She hated to admit it, but it had begun long before the night that she'd learned the truth of what he was for absolute certainty. At first, she simply tried to ignore it, write it off as a stupid crush, her brain misfiring for no apparent reason. And yet, it persisted. She had to keep herself away from him, stop herself from smirking when he said something cynical in class. Even before Harry had seen the pensieve memories, Hermione had always had an odd feeling that Snape was helping them, though she never had any proof and therefore felt silly about saying anything.. He'd never been overtly kind to her, nor had he ever been untoward, but he had pushed her to do better and challenged her with harsher, more complex assignments that she'd secretly loved.

Still, she wasn't about to thank the horrid monster who had knocked her unconscious and forced Severus to use her as vampire food. She remembered a scent and a high pitched laugh, but that was all, as she'd only been half-conscious at the time. She had felt the sensation of being dragged by a shadowy figure to the bed before their captor cut her deeply enough for her to bleed in order to force him to bite her.

 _That's right. Forced. He didn't even want to Sire me in the first place. He couldn't really want me. How could he after all that I've done and all that I didn't do when I had the chance?_

Her fists were clenched and they quivered with self hatred as she sat with his head gently cradled in her lap. When she finally reigned in her ugly sobs, she grabbed the blood replenishing bottle and pulled the stopper, placing it next to her on the mattress. Extending her short, new fangs, she bit into her own wrist with a scream as she learned the hard way that vampires were immune to the pleasurable narcotic effects of their own venom. Angling her bleeding wrist over his mouth, she pressed it against his tongue and allowed thick, hot jets of her blood pour into his mouth. Massaging his throat with her other hand as she poured small amounts into his mouth seemed to help him to swallow it, though a fair amount of blood dribbled down his chin and pooled in the hollow of his chest, staining him even more red with blood than before.

When she began to feel lightheaded, Hermione quickly grabbed the potion and drank it down in one gulp, feeling the surge of her blood roaring through her ears as it replenished.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, his nose wrinkled slight and he took in a tiny gasp of breath before letting out a horrible hacking cough, his whole body shuddering with shock.

Hermione pulled her wrist away and turned him gingerly onto his side in case he was about to be sick, but luckily, his coughing spell ended and his breathing began to even out and slow. With a deep, relieved sigh, he chuffed at the air, catching her scent, and raised his quivering hand, placing it on Hermione's thigh.

"Hghhhminee," he whimpered.

"Shhh, shhh, don't speak. It's alright, I'm here," she said comfortingly, stroking his hair and hating herself every time he feebly pressed back against her fingers as though seeking solace in her touch.

But now that she was no longer caught up in the tide of feeling and pleasure, she felt more guilty than ever for taking advantage of his sweetness.

 _It's not real. He doesn't love me. He's just following vampiric instinct. He can't help it. It's merely his nature._

Hermione's bitter thoughts were interrupted by the warmth of his mind pressing weakly against hers again, like a cat rubbing against the legs of its owner.

He made a soft noise in his throat and she could see clearly what he wanted from her in her mind.

 _Blood. Food. Connection._

Somewhat shyly, she offered him her wrist again, but he weakly turned his head away.

"N...nuh no," he panted, raising his shaking hand to her lips before his strength left him and his arm dropped heavily to his side.

She slid his head gently off of her lap and lay down at his side, propping herself up on one elbow and stroking his hair as she looked down into his eyes.

His lips moved weakly, though no sound escaped them other than the sharp and labored intake of his breath, but she could feel his desire pressing against her like a living thing.

Her resolve weakened as she felt herself pulled toward him, her lips drawing close to his as he gazed unblinkingly up at her, refusing to break eye contact.

"Are you...are you sure that you want this?" she whispered, her breath hot against his mouth.

"Y...eshh," he managed, his blood-stained lips flushed with desire.

And in a moment, she was kissing him, her lips firm yet gentle upon his. She could feel that they were chapped from blood loss and as she slipped her tongue into his mouth, she felt gingerly for his fangs, moaning with pleasure when the tip of her tongue touched the telltale points as they drew down, wet with blood and venom.

She drew back and offered him her neck.

" _Please_ , Severus," she panted, the tiny nick of his fang on her tongue filling her with renewed desire of her own, "You lost a lot of blood...so much that I feared that I lost you. I have three bottles of blood replenisher, so don't worry. I'll be just fine. So please...feed...take me... _bite_ me…"

For a moment, he stiffened and hesitated, but she drew closer to him, rubbing the line of her throat against his nose until he sighed with need at the scent of her. His lips drew back slowly and she could feel the sting of his fang-tips resting tentatively against her skin.

 _I love you, Hermione._

The words were in her head, soft and strained as he pushed himself to send them, but they were there.

He gently slipped his fangs into her neck and Hermione cried out, tears of joyful relief falling uncontrollably down her cheeks as he began to feed in earnest, his motions growing stronger as he took in her lifeforce.

And as his venom filled her veins and made them sing, Hermione finally admitted to herself that she _**did**_ love him, regardless of the circumstances that had brought them together. For what was love but the willingness to do anything it took to protect and care for another? To stay by his side. To feel the gentle glow of happiness every time she saw the corners of his mouth turn up in a hesitant smile. To feel his touch, his weight upon her.

For her heart to feel as though it had come _home_.

Though she couldn't say how it had happened, she knew that they were bound together for life. Such ancient magic would never have activated on its own, especially while they were without their wands, unless it was meant to happen.

And while she'd never put much stock in divination or prophecies, she had to admit that there were some things in life that happened because there was no stopping them, as sure as the winter rains, the light of morning after a long night or the tiny saplings that finally took root in the burnt earth after a wildfire.

For the first time, Hermione hated her deeply ingrained skepticism. She hated doubting his feelings for her, but no matter how much his mind caressed hers and his heart beat in time with her own, she couldn't help but worry that she was simply caught up in a beautiful dream that was sure to give way to another nightmare.


	21. Chapter 21

**Author's Note:** Ok, everyone, this chapter is going to have a lot of plot, but it's all really important, so please don't despair! We'll get back to Severus and Hermione soon. Also, I have come down with the Cold from Hell, so just be grateful that I could get this out before I totally passed out. Blame any weirdnesses on my sickbrain. As always, I adore your comments and I hope to hear your thoughts! :)

* * *

 **Chapter 21: Hotblooded**

Regardless of all that he'd endured at the hands of the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself, Draco remained rather proud to be in Slytherin House. He had never wished to be in any other House, but he had to admit that it was a bit irritating that he couldn't simply open a window to let in some fresh air. There was some sort of ancient magical ventilation system in place that kept the dungeons perfectly breathable, but to be honest, he'd never taken much time to think about it. Still, there was something inherently stifling about looking through the window in the Head Boy's room that looked out at the Black Lake.

Draco knew that he had not gotten the position due to his scholarly abilities, though he was no slouch as a student. Still, it galled him a bit to know that the only reason he'd been chosen was so that he could be set apart from the other students. There was still a lot of bad blood between himself and the other students in his House who blamed Draco for having been summarily accused of being Death Eaters and Voldemort sympathizers. Though Snape did his best to squash any bullying in his House, Slughorn had basically undone most of that work when he'd taken over for that horrible year before the last battle. Besides, most of the other Slytherin students were very sly in their tactics and most were good enough never to get caught. His bed and trunk had been set ablaze in the aftermath of the final battle, and one particularly nasty Fourth Year whose parents had been murdered by Death Eaters even tried to kill his owl, though luckily, he'd been unsuccessful.

Draco had enjoyed his night out with Hermione more than he would ever admit, even to himself. Even though she'd disappeared at the end of the evening and he'd not seen her since, he felt as though things were finally looking up. He'd always felt something for her, and out of shame had tried to hide it...badly. He could still recall the imprint of her fist against the side of his face from third year. It was so...unwizardly...and truth be told, he found that to be incredibly hot. But now that all of that was behind them, he was free. Free to finally make up for the mistakes he'd made and maybe find something in Hermione that he'd been looking for but had been too stubborn and pigheaded to allow himself to properly feel.

In any case, it was nearly ten o'clock when Draco began to feel a bit peckish, so he strolled down the deserted corridors and made his way to the kitchens for a late night snack. His craving satisfied, he was walking back to the Slytherin dorms when he began to feel as though he were being watched. A strange, metallic scent wafted into his nose, and he pulled out his wand, warily scanning the hallway. When nothing moved, he continued on, his wand still at the ready. When he reached the hidden stone wall to the Slytherin Common Room, he took one last look around before sliding through the opening and hurrying to his room.

He did not see the shadow slip in unnoticed through the doorway as the wall slid shut once more.

* * *

Erheldt was nearly finished with his preparations when his floo connection activated and he stood to face it, his suit immaculate as he straightened his ivory cuffs.

"I am glad that I could reach you before you left. It has been a long time, Erheldt." A familiar voice spoke from the green flames, "Please, if you do not mind me taking a moment of your time, I shall like to speak with you. You may know this already, but I have received some concerning news regarding...a sire of mine."

"Ah, yes, Sanguini, is that you? It _has_ indeed been a long time. Please, do come through, my old friend." Erheldt said formally as he pressed a lever on the grate which dropped the wide, silver rune-engraved ring that protected his home against unauthorized Floo entry.

The tall, dark-haired vampire stepped through the flames, his robes a rich dark brown with white and golden satin trim. Erheldt embraced the taller vampire briefly, and they smiled, their fangs retracting as they regarded one another as equals.

"How is Romania?" Erheldt asked politely as he sat in the velvet chair by the fireplace and gestured to an identical chair across from.

"Blessedly dark, cloudy and free of pitchfork-wielding peasants," Sanguini replied with a small smirk.

It was a small inside joke between the two of them, for Sanguini had helped Erheldt out of a rather sticky situation a bit more than one hundred years ago when the Viper had found himself surrounded by a mob of peasants who did indeed have quite a number of pitchforks, among other things.

"So, then, you wished to speak to me?" Erheldt asked politely, though it was obvious that both of them knew why Sanguini had come.

"Yes. I am fairly certain that you have also received a copy of this letter?" Sanguini pulled a violet envelope from his robes and held it out to Erheldt, who regarded it with a neutral expression.

"You know that the Council forbids me from disclosing confidential material regarding...these sorts of things." He replied, crossing his arms slowly and leaning back in his chair, "However, I am sure that you have heard of the shockwave that preceded the incident that I may or may not have been called upon to remedy, yes?"

Sanguini nodded slightly, his eyes going a little far away as his pupils went wide and his breathing hitched for a few moments before they refocused once more and he released the tight grip he'd wrung into the armrest.

"I may have been in another country altogether, but the sensation hit me like nothing I have ever experienced." Sanguini's voice was thick as he remembered. "Severus has never been fully connected to the Change, as many of you know. It is not his fault, but the circumstances of his siring has remained a mark on my conscience. Perhaps I was not a good enough mentor, but I felt it was best to respect his wishes...not to mention Dumbledore's warning."

Erheldt chuckled deeply at this.

"I only met the man once and knew at once what he was. But people are not chess pieces to be scattered about a board and sacrificed for some nebulous Greater Good."

"This is true," Sanguini replied bemusedly, "Still, he was only mortal, though he was quite a powerful wizard."

"I find myself of the opinion that the thirst for power always causes more trouble than it is worth." Erheldt said, glancing up at the oil painting above his fireplace, which depicted Atlantis sinking into the sea.

"Indeed," Sanguini replied, following his friend's gaze. "But you must admit that there are powers that move beyond what either you or I are privy to understanding about this world. You are familiar, I think, with Musette?"

Erheldt's brow furrowed.

"It was a tragic accident." He said softly.

"Tragic, yes. Accident? Well, only if one is rather creative with the definition of that word. Tell me, for you were there when it happened...when she and I became one for the first time...Do you think, knowing what you know about Garbor's jealousy, that an _accident_ was inevitable?"

Sanguini's eyes burned red, his lip pulled back in a snarl as he remembered losing her.

"Sanguini, you must calm yourself.."

"How can I be calm?!" Sanguini cried out, his hands balled into fists, "She was my mate! My love! My _Animavinculum_! She was carrying my _child_ , Erheldt! Do you know what that means? When I lost her, I lost them both. And, so help me, I shall do anything to prevent it from happening again!"

Erheldt's jaw twitched slightly as he took in this new information.

"I never knew...that she...how?"

Sanguini chuckled ruefully.

"You may be ancient, but there are things that even you do not know, it seems," he replied, pursing his lips before continuing, "You know already that the siring process releases a burst of energy that affects vampires in the surrounding area in a certain...way. Some humans are affected as well, though it is very rare."

"Yes, this I knew," Erheldt replied skeptically.

He was beginning to wonder if this was simply a tactic to keep him from starting his journey and give Severus some time to go underground and hide. But Erheldt also knew from his friend's expression that this was an important story for him to tell, one that might also help him in his hunt ahead. Besides, what did an ancient vampire such as himself have to worry about when his target was not even half a century old?

An extra night would be nothing to keep him from his target.

"Do not worry, it is not a long story. If, once you hear me out and still decide to continue on this path, I shall not burden you with any further interruptions." Sanguini seemed to have noticed Erheldt's suspicious expression and countered it with a withering glare of his own. "There are very few records of an _Animavinculum_ pair rising from a vampiric siring, but I was able to track down some ancient scrolls in the Library at Alexandria, the one that was not burned and looted because it is located in the twisted maze of catacombs beneath the ancient city, that speak of one such instance. As you can imagine, they are incredibly rare, and most have been lost to time.

The scholar who wrote of it didn't even know what he'd recorded, which is why it was overlooked by all except for Musette and I in our quest to know exactly what had happened to us that we could hear each other's thoughts, that we could shapeshift long before either of us were a millennium's age, that our power levels were increased as long as we were together, we could walk in sunlight without burning and to top it off...we didn't need outside blood."

Erheldt's eyes widened. He'd never heard of such a thing.

"If that is true," he said slowly, "Then why is it that the power that I can sense rolling off of you is greatly diminished, even amongst others of your age?"

"Do you remember what I was like when we first met?" Sanguini replied, licking his lips slowly.

Erheldt stared for a moment longer than was appropriate before recovering.

"Yes. Even for a youngling you were...sufficiently powerful..in more than one way," he rumbled affectionately, remembering their brief tryst all those centuries ago. "I have sired many, taken many a woman and many a man into my bed, but I shall always cherish my memories of you in all your glory."

"Yes, well.." Sanguini gulped, no doubt affected by a rush of old memories, "Losing Musette and our unborn son wounded me far more deeply than a physical wound. I almost wished that someone would carve my heart out of my chest instead. There was no escaping the relentless pain upon my mind and body. I nearly went mad for a time in my grief. If it were not for Horace Slughorn and his blasted Little Vamps Home, I would have taken my own life."

"I have heard of your great work for that institution," Erheldt said evenly, a hint of his earlier smile on his face. "There never was much on the way of support for those who were Changed at a young age. Most never survived long once the Council got wind of them in the old days."

"Yes, well, they saved me too. They needed me. You must understand, Erheldt. I _needed_ to be needed. This alone kept me grounded enough to function when I was in my darkest hour."

"We searched for the freelancer who mistook Musette for the intended target, but we never found them. The ruling against allowing for contract work passed soon after, but it was still far too late," Erheldt said sadly. "All we know is that the bounty was never collected, even when the original target vampire in question was eventually delivered on the front steps of the Council's headquarters with a hood tied over her head and her arms and legs tied with silver wire."

"You _know_ why. I had to be certain that she wouldn't be the death of anyone else's soulmate. And the worst part was that she didn't even look like my beautiful Musette, unless perhaps you were squinting in the dark! That vile creature deserved so much worse than the bite of silver against her skin! It was more than my _Animavinculum_ was offered!" Sanguini's fangs flashed as he opened his mouth wide in a silent scream.

"Sanguini..." Erheldt looked at his friend with sympathetic eyes, leaning forward to put a hand on the younger vampire's thigh to comfort him. "Please...continue."

Sanguini took a deep breath, composing himself, but his voice was still raw.

"The Animavinculum, as we understood it from the translation in the original Latin, describes a soul bond that is based in blood affinity," he said, a slight tremor in his voice. "It has been hypothesised for a long time that our people are long-lived beyond the average being for a purpose. And that purpose is...to be the harbingers for the perfect being."

"Perfect…?" Erheldt frowned with confusion.

"Yes. Perfect. Immortal. Born without our wretched Need. A being which you or I might call a god." Sanguini said, his voice steady now as he looked unblinkingly into Erheldt's eyes. "I am not joking. The reason why Tom was so keen on infiltrating our ranks was because he'd heard whispers of the _Animavinculum_ phenomenon and wished to determine if he could use it to become a god himself. Of course, as he found out when he "interviewed me" during one of Slughorn's parties when he was a mere teenager, the abilities are only conferred upon the offspring of those who have bonded in this manner. But these abilities are not fully formed until after birth, which is why the parents are given extra abilities and power to nurture and care for their offspring during its most vulnerable state and subsequent rearing."

"So, what you are saying is...is that…" Erheldt could nearly believe his ears.

"Yes," Sanguini replied, "If Severus has found his _Animavinculum_ , there is no reason why he would ever desire to sire another. And though I felt a small pulse of power earlier tonight, it was almost unnoticeable. Something is going on here, something that feels terribly, terribly wrong. A few years ago, Garbor threatened that if I ever sired with a female again, he would end me. He fears that lightning will strike twice- that I'll find another half a soul that completes me. It is ridiculous, of course, but now I fear for Severus, that he is being wrongfully accused of something he has not done."

"But the Bloodtrace does not lie," Erdheldt replied softly, "Whenever a vampire's blood is taken by a mortal, the Council is alerted. It is part of the pact that keeps our kind safe and our number sustainable. When a new vampire awakes, this information is impressed upon them by their Master. Even ancients such as myself must adhere to its tenants. Without our rules, we are no better than savages, skulking in the dark like monsters. He knew what would happen if he disrespected our laws."

"All I ask is that you allow me to travel with you and that we get all of the information before you destroy him," Sanguini pleaded, his eyes going watery with tearful desperation. "If he truly has found his _Animavinculum_ and they are in the middle of the Change, separating them will kill her as well. Even you cannot argue that it would be barbaric to kill an innocent."

"Hmm, this is true," Erdheldt replied, nodding sagely. "I am not an unreasonable man, Sanguini. You are a friend, and I understand that this situation must be handled delicately. Very well. We shall set out tomorrow after dark."

"What shall we do in the meantime, old friend?" Sanguini replied, his voice brightening considerably. "There are still many hours until sunrise."

"Oh, I think that you and I will find there is much to do, as long both of us are willing," Erheldt purred, pulling the taller, thinner vampire into a gentle embrace.

"It has been a long time, Erdheldt, far _too_ long," Sanguini replied, his long arms curling up the elder vampire's wide back.

"My sentiment exactly," Erheldt whispered, slipping an arm around Sanguini's slim waist and leading him out into the hall. "Let us visit a more...comfortable room, shall we?"

Sanguini merely rested his head on Erheldt's shoulder in reply and followed his host onward to begin their diversions.

* * *

Draco collapsed on his bed, his eyelids heavy. He'd really needed that late-night snack, and now, with his teeth brushed, his face washed and dressed in his best Slytherin crest pajamas, he really felt the urge to sleep pressing painfully against the corners of his eyes. He'd just crawled under his duvet when he heard a strange noise that sounded like wood warping. Immediately, he sat up straight in bed, pulling his wand from under his pillow and pointing with terror at the door. A long, distorted shadow seemed to slip under the door, the greenish light in the hallway outside casting a sickly tinge on the floor.

" **Draco, let me in,** " came a thick, halting voice from the other side of the door.

Draco nearly retched as a smell like rotting meat filled the room.

Something moved wetly on the other side of the door, fleshy noises like wet meat slapping and sliding together as something grabbed his door knob and began to twist at it, jiggling the knob more violently when it was found to be locked.

" **Let me in, my love, and we shall be together forever** ," the voice rasped again, a wet gurgle erupting from the back of its horrid throat.

"Get the fuck away from me!" Draco shouted at the door as a great weight pressed against the wood, bowing it ever so slightly.

" **Oh, don't play hard to get, Draco. You know you want me.** " The voice attempted a sing-song voice, but it came out husky and horrible.

Draco was pressed against the far wall, his eyes wide with terror as he tried to find an exit- anything, anywhere that he could hide. But the door was the only exit and Snape was nowhere to be found, which was odd, really, as he was normally rather regular with his rounds of Slytherin House.

" **Soon, Draco,** " the voice squealed wretchedly as the door began to groan in earnest under the weight of the horrible thing outside in the hall, " **Soon I shall have you, and you shall never leave me again**."

Draco sank to the floor, his back pressed against the stone, whimpering brokenly. He wanted to fight, but he was filled with terror, and everyone knew that offensive spells were useless unless he _meant_ it.

But all that Draco could feel was a mindless terror as the creature clawed and called out its undying devotion.

And he hated himself all the more for his cowardice, for this time it surely would be the death of him.


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note:** Well, then, I think it's time for some more...connecting, don't you? ;)

* * *

 **Chapter 22: Bound by Blood**

Hermione's body was growing maddeningly hot, her mind racing with dizzying pleasure as Severus fed upon her, his body growing warmer and warmer as he lay underneath her stoking the flame of his life force with her blood. She'd only needed to use two of her three remaining blood replenishing potions on herself before he'd stopped shivering and his skin had gone from a waxy yellowish shade to the creamy marble complexion he'd always had before.

And still, he fed.

 _Come, my love, I ache to feel your fangs upon me._

Something hot sparked in Hermione's belly as his his mind called out to hers. Her cheeks went red with a sense of embarrassed pride to hear such a tender term used to describe their relationship. Tentatively, she felt her budding fangs slip out until they were resting over her lower lip slightly and she nuzzled his neck, reveling in the warmth of his mouth upon her throat as he continued to feed.

"Are you sure?" she said softly, her lips whispering softly against his skin until she felt small goosebumps rising under them.

 _Please, Hermione. Please. Can you feel it inside of you? The yearning for completion? The desire to be together and all that it entails?_

His words made her breath hitch and the overwhelming feeling to connect that she'd been holding back in her terror and her desperation to heal him flooded her once more.

"Oh, yes...yesssss….I can feel it, Severus," she whispered before she could no longer control herself and slid her fangs into his neck with a moan of pleasure.

His hands were sliding up to firmly grasp her hips, sliding her back down his torso as she lay straddling his body, bent down against his chest so that he could access her neck. He gently pressed her backwards until she could feel the insistent heat and stiffness of his erection upon her arse and the heat in her belly roared to life.

 _You are so hot and wet for me, aren't you, my love?_

His words slid into her mind like black velvet rubbing against her thighs and her eyes rolled back into her head as she savored the pulsing heat of his blood.

 _Yes_!

All of the words had flown straight out of her head as he rubbed the skin on her pelvis with his thumbs in soft, deep circles, his long fingers slipping back to rub the tight skin of her arse in a most pleasurable manner. She shuddered against him, grinding herself over his pubic mound as he let out a sharp moan into her neck to show her how much this pleased him.

 _Are you ready for me, Hermione?_

She mewled softly into his neck, the vibration causing him to shiver slightly under her.

 _Oh yes, yes please, Severus!_

Her thoughts were a mess as a fiery pleasure filled her head, slowly filling her body. With a slight sense of shock, she realized that she was feeling his pleasure and that she was broadcasting her sensation to him as well.

Gently, he urged her to lift her hips and she did so happily until she could feel the hot, firm tip of his cock pressed lightly against her labia. He nudged against her slowly, tenderly rubbing down the line of her spine with one hand. Without thinking, she brought herself down hard, sheathing his full length inside of her, her body humming with pleasure as he finally filled the aching empty places inside of her.

It was as though a circuit had been completed once more. A deep thrumming sound filled the air, crackling in the space around them like electricity. Pulses of light began to beat in perfect time from their hearts and poured outward in golden waves until they were surrounded in a cocoon of ethereal light that shone as brightly as the sun itself. She moved against him, his hips pressing back as they continued to feed from one another, the head of his cock kissing her cervix as they moved in perfect symmetry.

Hermione could feel their blood running in an infinite loop, hers mixing together with his until it was in perfect balance. Her mind went blank with bliss and she felt him crying out in her mind, wet moans leaking from their mouths as they fed and fucked and built their pleasures upon one another until both were near their limit.

His orgasm built from the base of his spine, pressing outward like a burst of fire and pleasure. She rode the feeling with him, grinding against him until he bottomed out inside of her and her womb ached to be full once more. Her eyes were screwed tight as she rocked on top of him feeling her own pleasure build to a peak as well.

 _Come with me, oh god, please...Hermione…there, just like...that...ahhhnnn!_

Hermione bore down upon him until he was as deep inside of her as was possible and stopped, smirking at his neck when he tried to buck against her from below and made a frustrated noise at her neck. Sliding her fangs slowly out of his neck, she drew back slightly and he did the same as well, their mouths stained with scarlet as they looked at one another, their eyes the only dark points on their bodies. As before, Hermione could see his heart beating under his luminescent skin, the veins and capillaries running through his body in whirling patterns of pulsing red.

"Kiss me, please, Severus," she gasped breathlessly. "I want to feel you filling me up to bursting with your taste on my lips."

A deep moan issued forth from the back of his throat as labored breaths shook his frame. His fangs retracted as he brought his hand to the side of her face, his dark eyes staring into hers insistently.

"For you, _anything_ ," he gasped.

Hermione felt her fangs retracting as well as he brought his lips to hers, gently at first and then with more and more pressure until they were moving again, her rocking on top of him as he tried his best to hold out while her pleasure built to bursting.

"You don't have to hold back any longer," Hermione whispered into his mouth, and he whimpered at her words, unable to reply.

Drawing back, she began to move at a slow, deliberate pace ending in his cock pressing as deeply against the opening of her womb as possible, his breaths coming out in ragged moans as she pressed against the sweet spot at the head of his cock while also pressing her tongue into his mouth and licking his lips until the taste of their blood mixed together as well.

She could feel him peaking, feel his body stiffening as he reached the point of no return. His cock grew hotter than ever inside of her and she could feel him straining, trying to put off the inevitable. And, at that moment, she wanted nothing else than the feeling of his semen coating her womb. This thought was so overwhelming that it brought her body to the brink of a shuddering release of her own.

 _Come with me, Severus._

She pushed the thought into his mind and he could not deny her, not after all she'd given him.

He moaned sharply into her mouth as he went fully rigid, his hips pressing hard into her as she pushed down against him a final time with a moan of her own, the undulations of her orgasm milking his cock as it spasmed and shot hot jets of semen deep inside of her. She cried out, his voice on her lips, while his voice raggedly called out her name over and over in her head.

As the urgency of orgasm faded into a deep glowing satisfaction that filled both with a sense of calm, the golden cocoon that surrounded them spun and pulsed once around them before growing dense like smoke and slipped into their skin, the translucence of their skin fading until the only light in the room came from the flickering torches. The tension between them broke abruptly as their breathing slowed, and she lay across his chest, stroking his face as he ran his hand down her spine softly, his fingers sliding down the slick sweat that now lay warm and wet against her back.

"Severus," she panted, "I was so afraid that I'd lost you. I still worry that I shall once this beautiful dream is over."

"Who says it is a dream?" he replied huskily, a slight hitch in his breath as he looked up at her with dark, expressive eyes.

"Who...who did this to you, Severus?" Hermione said softly, gently stroking the scar at his neck, which had faded to an almost unnoticeable white.

"I...I will _deal_ with her." he replied, his brow furrowing.

"When I saw what she did to you, I wanted to kill her," Hermione admitted, her cheeks growing red with the memory of her anger and fear. "Can you at least give me a name?"

"After what you did to that girl's face in your fifth year, I shudder to think what sort of terrible thing you'd have in mind," he replied, stroking her hair softly as her eyes burned with angry tears.

"Anyone who would do what was done to you is...a…." Hermione sputtered, trying to find the word.

"... _Monster_?" Severus replied, his mouth relaxing into a small smile.

"Exactly!" Hermione said, more loudly than she had intended. "Sorry, I...I didn't mean to shout...it's just that...you could have died."

"Hermione...Hermione, look at me," Severus said softly, sliding his hand under her jaw and lifting her head so that she was looking into his eyes, "I will never, ever leave you alone if I can help it. And with your Gryffindor brashness, I highly doubt that I will ever be in danger great enough that you will hesitate to come to my rescue, if it comes to that."

"That light….this isn't a normal siring process, is it?" Hermione said, biting her lower lip gently as she gazed into his eyes.

"I must admit, Sanguini never mentioned anything like this, and I have never read of this phenomenon occurring in any book," Severus said thoughtfully. "But what I do know is this: in order to sire, a vampire must feed first before giving access to their blood to instigate the change. My... _assailant_...placed me in a Total Body Bind…then...she _took_ me by force. Likely this is because, had she asked, I would have told her that I would sooner bite a diseased warthog than sink my fangs into her flesh."

"At least let me stand by your side when you confront her, if only as your moral support!" Hermione's eyes burned with righteous fury, and she brought her hand up to his, entwining her fingers around his as she nuzzled his neck and licked the fading fang marks she'd made earlier.

"Only if you promise not to do anything too... _Gryffindor_..." he replied, arching a brow.

"Fine, I'll only hex her when she's got her back turned," Hermione replied with a sniff.

"You would do such a thing for me?" he replied, his voice somewhere between doubt and awe. "Wait, what am I saying...No! Hermione, you know that it is not proper for students to go hexing one another in the halls."

"Ah, so she's a student, then!" Hermione replied with a wicked grin. "Oh, this being sly thing is quite useful indeed."

"Hermione, you are aware that if you point out how subtly you have gleaned information from others, that it is the exact opposite of being sly, correct?" he replied, though his tone of voice and the small smirk on his face showed that he wasn't irritated.

But Hermione's mind was working at lightning fast speeds as she began to connect the dots and she barely noticed any of this.

"She's got to be in my year because this happened after curfew for all of the other students….and that means that she was probably at that concert the other night, wasn't she? I'll bet she was the one who imprisoned us in here in the first place, which is how she found us!"

Severus stiffened under her and Hermione grinned fiercely at getting it right.

"And I went with Draco, which means that it was probably someone who is connected to him, say...an angry ex girlfriend? Like, say, _Pansy Parkinson_?"

"How did you…?" Severus replied quietly, his eyebrows rising into his hairline. He was obviously stunned that Hermione had worked it out so quickly.

"Earlier, when we were first...er... _connected_ , I saw into your mind when you talked to that woman who runs the venue, the one who made a deal with you to scare me. She looks an awful lot like Pansy when you really look at her, doesn't she? And though I usually don't pay attention to gossip, anyone could see that Draco and Pansy have been fighting more regularly than usual these past few weeks. It seemed rather odd for Draco to ask me to a concert if they were still in a relationship, so I can only deduce that they'd broken up for good by that time. Still, I find it hard to believe that Pansy would ever get blood on her hands...literally _or_ figuratively."

"Love makes you do...stupid things," Severus replied softly, his eyes growing cloudy with memory, "Anger...even more so…"

"I can't agree with that," Hermione retorted, her finger running against the pink line that remained at his throat, "You can't be _made_ to rip someone's throat out and nearly kill them. I highly doubt that Pansy had a wand held to her head when she did this to you."

"This is true…" Severus looked away, his expression pained. "But the fact remains that I am the Slytherin Head of House and as such, I must be the one who metes out punishment. Though, as a vampire, there are some other... _issues_...that I may encounter."

"Like what?" Hermione asked softly as she ran a finger down his nose playfully.

"Like, for example, the fact that each vampire has a Bloodtrace on them. It is similar to the wizarding Trace, only it merely alerts the Council if a vampire's blood has been taken by a mortal, as this is considered proof of siring."

"But…" Hermione frowned, "What is the problem, then?"

"The thing is, Hermione, there is a long-standing rule that applies to all vampires for the sake of keeping our number sustainable and keeping idiots from siring left and right."

"What are the terms?" Hermione said, her face utterly serious as she waited for him to reply.

"One is allowed to sire only once per century," Severus replied tiredly, "And after Miss Parkinson's _violation_ of my body, it would seem that the Council knows that two have partaken of my blood in less than a week's time."

Hermione went very pale.

"What is the punishment?" she asked quietly, not daring to take a breath.

"The Vampire Council is rather more medieval than the Ministry." Severus said, his eyes darting away from hers.

"What is the punishment, Severus?" Hermione asked, her voice rising an octave as she stared fiercely at him.

"Hermione, you must understand. You will be safe. You are an innocent in this. I will be allowed to ensure your... _survival_." he said resignedly, covering his face with one hand.

" _What is the damn punishment, Severus?!_ " Hermione shrieked, her nose only inches from his.

It was only then that she noticed that a small stream of moisture had leaked down one cheek and his breath was coming out unevenly underneath her.

"Severus, are you crying? Oh god, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scream at you, I didn't mean to hurt you...oh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Hermione said softly, kissing him softly and wrapping her arms around him, feeling instantly guilty about shouting at him.

"I'm...sorry...I should be...stronger...stronger than this…" he replied, his voice thick with sorrow. "I just...I finally...I finally found true happiness...I finally found... _you_...and...inevitably, it seems...fate figures out some way to take it all from me…"

"What do you mean by that? Please, Severus, tell me! You're frightening me!" Hermione pressed her body against his, her arms tightly wrapped around him as though he were about to disappear.

"They'll send one of the Vipers to destroy me," Severus replied softly, finally moving his hand from his face so that she could see his red-rimmed, sorrowful eyes and she felt a stab of sickness twisting in her belly as he confirmed her worst fears. "There will be nowhere that I can hide from them. They will come for me. And then, they will end me. There is no question of _what_ will happen, only the question of _when_."


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's Note:** **I had a couple of people ask me what the fuck is up with Pansy. Hence the following chapter. I know it shouldn't need to be said, but...don't rape people and take their blood. That way lies...terrible things...**

* * *

 **Chapter 23: Spoiled**

Wood splintered and cracked as the creature worked at splitting it open to get at the shivering Slytherin inside. Draco had pressed his hands over his ears so firmly that they throbbed with pain, his fear radiating outward as his wand lay useless on the stone floor.

"Please...somebody...anybody...help.." he rasped, the nausea building at the back of his throat as he struggled to breathe in the fetid air that poured through widening slots in the door.

Long, skinless, red-streaked fingers ending in black, scabby nails slid through one of the wider cracks in the wood and curled an inhuman fourth knuckle, beckoning at Draco.

" **Come closer, Draco, my love. Honestly, I can't understand why you resist me so. I'm so much more than I was before, and once you feel the sting of my bite, you'll understand. Oh yes, you will**!" The voice crooned wetly.

"Fuck off, you vile creature!" He sobbed brokenly, his arms shaking as he pressed his hands even more tightly over his ears even though it did no good to stop the horrid noises.

He heard an animalistic snarl in reply as the creature chuffed putrid bursts of air from its nostrils.

" **Don't make me come in after you, you blond bastard**!" The voice deepened and lost all sense of its humanity, then, and he could hear a noise that sounded almost like teeth scraping against the nearly broken door. He began to realize that the only reason the thing hadn't squeezed its way inside was because it was far too massive to do so.

"No no no no no no no," Draco murmured, mindless with fear as his heart thudded against his ribcage like a drum.

He knew that none of his fellow housemates would come to his rescue, though they were certain to have heard the noise. After all, there were more than a few who felt that Azkaban was too kind a fate for the Malfoy family, especially after how they'd harbored a maniacal psychopath and aided in his reign of terror.

So it was quite a surprise when a loud bang echoed down the hall as a Slicing Hex caught the creature full on what must have been its backside. The creature snarled and turned away from the door, and through the sizable chunks taken out of it, he could see something massive pull back muzzle-like lips to bare knife-like teeth at whoever was in the hallway, sending hex after hex and curse after curse at it.

A second jet of light crackled down the hall as another wand joined the first and a young woman's voice called out curses angrily.

The beast seemed to realize that it was outnumbered and shrank back, still snarling, before it raised its arms and moved with a strange swooping sound as it sped off towards the Slytherin common room to escape the pain.

His courage returning at the sound of his rescuers fighting off the horrible thing that had nearly torn his door down to get at him, Draco grabbed his wand and hastily pulled himself up.

As he ran to the door and threw it open, two Slytherin students shot past him, their wands raised and ready for a fight. The groaning cries of the wounded creature were punctuated by the sound of breaking glass and shuddering impacts against the walls.

Draco followed closely behind them and saw the retreating horrible mottled backside of something fleshy, bloated and sparsely covered in dark black hair. From behind, he could tell that it was naked beyond a few tattered bits of cloth that stubbornly dug into its flesh, but it was like nothing he'd ever seen in his life. It had no neck whatsoever and its long arms were more like an ape's than a human's impossibly long and thin, but it appeared skinless and bloody with tendons stretching out of the skin as it slammed into the wall that separated the Slytherin common room from the dungeon hallway beyond.

"Quick! It's getting away!" Draco heard himself yelling as he shot a Total Body Bind at the thing.

It hit the monstrous creature in the shoulder, but other than knocking it off balance, it didn't seem to do much of anything at all. Draco still had no idea what sort of creature it was, but he knew it had to be magical and have a natural resistance to spells or it would have been affected more than it had. As though to prove his point, it simply roared in pain and continued to slam its shoulder into the stone in an attempt to escape.

Finally, it seemed that the wall's magic either couldn't or wouldn't handle the assault any longer, and the blocks of stone moved away to allow the thing to escape. The wall closed up tight after it had slipped through, leaving pinkish slime where it rubbed against the stone due to its massive girth.

His two saviors turned and Draco finally got a good look at them.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Gregory Goyle said, his thuggish brow furrowed as he caught his breath.

"I don't know, Greg, but it reeks in here now!" A tall, blonde girl with proud features said sharply, crossing her arms in irritation. It was then that Draco realized with a bit of embarrassment that she was wearing one of Goyle's very large white undershirts and nothing else.

"Daph, I told you that you didn't have to get out of bed..." Greg said, his face flushing red as he glanced at the bottom of the shirt, which pulled up right around her upper thighs and nearly showed everything underneath it.

She turned to glare at Draco, and he completely forgot that she was nearly in a state of undress.

"What did you do?" she added, her voice accusatory.

"What do you mean?!" Draco sputtered. "You can't be thinking I'd be stupid enough to intentionally let something like _that_ in here!"

"Maybe not," she replied, her eyes narrowed, "But then again, you were stupid enough to break up with Pansy without at least getting her latched onto someone new, so I'm not exactly going to sing your intellectual praises, Malfoy."

Draco looked back with an equally irritated expression until he finally placed a name to her face. Daphne Greengrass. _That_ was her name. She was one of Pansy's friends, though not so much recently. It seemed that Pansy had alienated herself from more than her ex-boyfriend in the past year or so.

Not that he was one to talk. He had no idea that Gregory Goyle had started dating Daphne. In fact, he had no idea that, behind that hatchet-like face, there was enough going on in Goyle's tiny mind to actually facilitate finding girls attractive, let alone asking someone out. From the looks of things, even Goyle the Boil had lost his virginity before he had, and with a rather attractive girl, too.

Draco silently cursed his apparently horrid luck with basically everything ever.

"Thanks, Greg...Daphne..." he said at last, staring at the debris on the floor with an ashamed expression. "You both saved my arse. I'd be monster food or worse if you'd not come along."

"What could be worse than monster food?" Greg wondered aloud as Daphne's horrified expression told Draco that she knew exactly what he was referring to.

"I can manage on my own from here. You guys can get back to bed. I'd better start mending this mess before Snape catches wind of it," Draco said bitterly as he thought of the hard work ahead.

"There's no way you can get all of this cleaned up and wake up in time for classes tomorrow!" Daphne exclaimed, nearly stomping her foot with irritation, "So, although I would normally say that you should clear this mess up yourself, it simply wouldn't do for you to lose House points by playing hooky or falling asleep in class!"

"Er...yeah...what she said," Goyle said sheepishly as he scratched his head and shrugged at Draco's arched brow. "What? She's better at saying things than me."

Draco nodded. He had to admit that Goyle was right in that regard.

"Finally, something we all agree on," Daphne said primly, "Now, why don't you two work on Scourgifying the chairs and I'll nip down to the kitchens and get some House Elves to help fix the more advanced damage. Do try to get the stench out of the air by the time I return so that as little as possible gets back to the Headmistress! After all, if that... _thing_...wasn't your doing, we don't want to get our House accused of raising some kind of fiend to terrorize the school again."

Draco and Greg nodded sagely and set to work as Daphne cleaned and cajoled the wall until it let her through.

"Don't you think that maybe one of us should go with her?" Draco asked his friend, "I mean, that thing is still out there on the loose!"

"I wouldn't worry about Daphne," Goyle replied, looking dreamily at the wall where she'd exited moments before. "She's a hell of a witch. Knows more hexes and curses and charms and _everything_ than me!"

Draco didn't have the heart to tell Goyle that nearly anyone could meet that criteria, but he was fairly certain that if someone could handle Goyle, she had to have at least a relatively talented head on her shoulders. They continued Scourgifying items in the room until Daphne popped back with three House Elves who helped them get everything to rights in record time.

Finally, when it was all over, they walked Draco back to his room and he thanked them again for their help before they walked back to the dorm that Goyle shared with some other bloke who was obviously either very quiet and open minded or off in someone else's bed. He felt a slight twinge of jealousy as he saw Goyle wrap his long arm around Daphne's waist and she leaned into her boyfriend with a contented sigh.

All he could think about was doing the same to Hermione even though he knew that it would probably never happen in reality.

 _Well, I guess I'd better just add it to the 'Reasons Why Draco's Life Sucks' list._

The House Elves had replaced his old door with a thick, heavy iron and oak monstrosity that took forever to open and close, but Draco didn't mind.

Anything to keep the monsters out.

It used to just be some childish fear that he'd had; not based in reality in any way. But now, he almost wished to regain that youthful ignorance.

It was so much better than the alternative.

And even though he'd double-warded the door and burrowed under the covers with his wand gripped tightly in his white knuckled hand, it took ages and ages for his eyes to close and his body to embrace the oblivion of sleep.

It was not because he feared the nightmares, though, for now he knew that the nightmares were _real_ , and they were coming for him.

And the worst of it was that he had absolutely no idea when they'd strike next.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note:** I've been a bit busy getting over a cold and finishing a couple other stories for the competition I'm participating in. I'm also writing an original novel, which is going slowly. I'm also working on some submissions for an art installation where I can show two of my pieces. It's rather exciting.

Now that I've finished my other assignments for the week, I plan on updating more regularly during the week.

It is truly not a lie to say that the urge to write is like a sort of madness. It takes hold of me and my fingers itch to craft narrative. So without further ado, back into the fanged fray!

* * *

 **Chapter 24: Convergence Creeps**

Hyacinth had a terrible feeling in the pit of her belly. Not only had yet another Siring shockwave hit her and Lars as they'd been in the middle of tending bar, (which had led to an entire tray of cordials smashing to the floor, some embarrassingly hasty barked out orders and a number of bewildered Rennies being forced to take over), but it had thrown the Red Room into an uproar. Vampires were feeding and fucking and insatiably sinking their teeth into one another. Rennies were running from the room as the vampires apparently lost their minds to the haze of the shockwave's effects.

It had been chaos. Deliciously sexy chaos, but chaos nonetheless.

"It feels the same as the last one." Hyacinth panted as Lars kissed her softly on the neck, their passion finally sated. "How is that possible? There is normally only one per Siring."

His easy smile faded and his eyes grew distant.

"It was a long time ago, but I can remember only one other Siring that affected me more than these past two. In that instance, there was only one, but it was a doozy."

"Do tell," Hyacinth replied, her eyes half-lidded even as a small voice in the back of her head screamed at her that something was terribly wrong, that she had something to do with it, though she didn't know who was involved or where the shockwaves had originated from.

"It was during what most of you now refer to as the Victorian Era, though to be honest, the years blur together, and I'm utter pants at knowing exact dates as you well know. Let's just say it was a good time to be a merchant. I had to be careful, of course, but for quite some time, I commandeered a ship, as you already know from some of my other, more swashbuckling tales. I was actually only in London for a short time, so the fact that it happened on what was supposed to be my last night there seemed to be a portent of things to come. For while I will always love my homeland, something clicked into place that night and I wanted always to stay within this...community."

"Did you ever find out who sired that night?" Hyacinth asked, needing to know but dreading the answer.

"Why yes, actually. The only reason I knew about it is because they threw a lavish party in the Underground a week later, one that anyone with fangs would not have missed for all the world." Lars sighed, his eyes dreamy. "The clothing, the dancing...the _blood_...it was _amazing_ , my beloved. You would have loved it. And the two who had called us together...they _glowed_ together as they stood in the center of the festivities."

"Yes, but who were they?" Hyacinth pressed, feeling like a First Year all over again, "What were their names? Do we know them? Have they visited?"

"Well…" Lars seemed reluctant at first, but at his wife's insistent pouty expression he finally relented. "Their names were Musette...and Sanguini."

Hyacinth gasped. She'd never heard of Musette, but she knew Sanguini quite well, especially since the vampire maid a point to visit regularly when Slughorn was at Hogwarts. Something about a vampire orphanage or some such nonsense like that.

"Sanguini...isn't he….?" she left the question unanswered as Lars nodded sagely.

"He sired Severus, though, if the rumors are to be believed, it was under duress, though somehow also neither of their faults." he said seriously. "They never even got to complete it fully, and Severus nearly died before he turned. It was not Sanguini's best moment, to be honest, but he seems to have been born under a cursed star with all he's endured."

"But why doesn't anyone else seem to know?" Hyacinth asked. "Even I didn't know Snape was one of us until after I'd Changed."

"Simple. We don't out our own." Lars replied, shrugging again. "There's no express rule or punishments for doing so, obviously, but our community is rather insular, so one who cannot keep their mouth shut is liable to find themselves isolated and isolation is rather fatal for our kind. You were Slytherin, so you should understand. It's very similar to the creed of your House."

Hyacinth nodded. She'd never considered outing Snape, (or anyone else for that matter) as it was not something that she could imagine being useful to her in any way. Quite the opposite, really. And besides, she doubted he would react well to even the hint of blackmail, as their haggling conversation a few days before had taught her.

"Musette's death shocked the vampire community around the world. It was widely circulated as an accident, but many felt that something wasn't quite right about it. Sanguini himself was rather vocal about foul play, but the Council would not investigate it other than to make Freelancing punishable by death, a move that many felt was far too little too late considering that the culprit is still at large to this day. Some even believe that it was a hit by a Viper, one who had been authorized by the Council for some nefarious reason."

"But why would anyone want to kill her?" Hyacinth asked. She was a sucker for a good romance, and the thought of the Council, which Lars had largely touted as an ancient and civilized organization, actually authorizing such a barbaric thing made her shudder.

"That's the thing," Lars replied sadly, "No one really knows."

Hyacinth imagined how she would feel if someone murdered Lars and then covered it up. She shuddered at the thought of it.

"I...I'm going to send another owl to Pansy. She didn't leave on the best of terms," Hyacinth said softly, pulling a slip over her head and stepping back into her evening gown. "Do you think that you can handle the rest?"

"For you? Anything." Lars replied, his grin stretching wide and easy across his face.

Hyacinth felt a throb of tenderness as she slipped into her stilettos and she fought against a rather strong impulse to stay by his side before shutting the door slowly behind her.

* * *

The horrible bloated _thing_ that was Pansy Parkinson ran from the hexes that flayed her flesh and filled her mind with panic. Her breath was thick with fear as she retraced her steps back to the front doors of the castle using the strange oozing slime that covered her skin, folding flat as a shadow and slipping out the crack between the two heavy double doors.

This final act of power exhausted her energy and she flopped onto her face in the wet grasses beyond.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be, this wasn't what she'd expected to happen. She'd taken his blood, felt her body changing. All that was left was to bite Draco and…

 _Draco_.

She winced, her flat nose snuffling into the dirt like a pig's as tears filled her tiny beady eyes. He'd looked at her like she was a _monster_. She _was_ a monster. And now even he was lost to her.

" **What have I done**?" she croaked, her senses returning to her for the first time all night. " **How do I undo this**?"

 _Too late to turn back, poppet. Perhaps you didn't take enough from him! But all will be fixed if you simply suck him dry!_

The comforting whisper filled her mind, caressing her consciousness.

" **Yes. You're absolutely right**." she groaned, pulling her face up and using her long, spindly arms and claws to pull her bloated, fleshy body along the ground before collapsing once more with a piteous moan. Blood welled thick and black from the Slicing Hex that Draco had flung at her.

A cackling laugh echoed in her head and a half-mad voice tutted at her condescendingly.

 _Oh Pansy, Pansy, Pansy. No matter. I shall give you a little gift. But in return you shall give of yourself, my dear. All things come with a price, after all. We shall have our greatness in due time. I promise you that._

A silver light began to engulf her body and her horrible mottled skin began to clear and thin out to an even, milky white. Her arms shrunk in length, coarse black body hair retracting into her skin as silky black hair sprouted from the top of her head.

"Ahh, aghhhhh," Pansy moaned as the sharp, jagged teeth pulled into her gums with a horrible cracking sound and were replaced with her normal set, her eyes growing larger and set apart at a normal distance from her small, no longer snout-like nose. She drew her hands around her chest as she realized she was very, very naked, save for the dagger sheath, which had shrunk magically with her body.

 _A girl must be modest, don't you agree, Pansy?_

The singsong voice filled her head and as she stood, a shimmering fabric wrapped around her body, leaving her in a dark black dress with a crisscross back that let the coolness of the late night air drift over her now flawless skin.

"Yes," Pansy said flatly, her voice no longer choked with a tongue that was not meant to form words. "I must finish what I started."

 _That's my girl. Ahhh, bloodmagic really hits the spot._

And as Pansy looked to her left, a shimmering form began to coalesce into a form wearing dark robes with wild black hair and an expression that matched the intensity of her gaze.

" _You_!" she cried out in surprise.

The spectre gave her a wide eyed pout and ran her glowing fingers through her hair.

 _Yes, I suppose it is me, isn't it? Here's a fun little tip, Pansy, the stronger you get, the stronger I get too, but there's only so much lifeforce to go around. I let you enjoy your little rendezvous with my nephew because I thought that you'd taken enough, but after that disappointing display, now I am not sure. So, get back to that traitorous cur and take him for every drop of blood that he possesses! A life for a life should not be a problem for you, since you now know that yours is forfeit if I cannot have his. There's no turning back, my dear. You're too far gone. This is why you really ought to read the fine print before you go putting strange things in your mouth._

With that, Bellatrix Lestrange cackled wildly in Pansy's head, the phantom image throwing back its head in perfect sync as the cacophonous sound filled her.

 _You will give me what I desire, Pansy. One way...or another…._

Pansy shuddered as she _finally_ realized that this had all gone far beyond her own little quest for revenge. And though she now knew that she was in over her head, she was also filled with shame at the thought of crawling on her belly to request help from others.

 _Tonight we end that traitor once and for all. I just can't wait to feel his flesh under my blade again!_

Bellatrix was choked with giddiness, but Pansy felt as though she was about to vomit. Reluctantly, she began to walk slowly back to Hogsmeade and the bloody mess she'd left behind in the Shrieking Shack, the spectre following her silently.

She only hoped that there would be enough to satisfy the madwoman beside her.


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's Note:** I blame this chapter on Corvus Draconis and her adorable fan art. Also, no, this is not the end of this story. Not just yet.

* * *

 **Chapter 25: Going Batty**

Hermione's eyes opened to the gentle light of early morning and she squeaked with surprise. Another, somewhat more guttural squeak mirrored hers, and all at once, she realized exactly what had happened.

 _Bloody hell. I'm a bat again._

As she swiveled her ears to zero in on the flapping noise next to her, she realized that she had company. A slightly larger vampire bat with dark fur that contrasted with her silvery brown coat was looking back and forth at his wings as he flapped them tentatively before he noticed her looking and met her gaze with a snort that she supposed was supposed to be derisive but instead came out like the cutest little sneeze she'd ever heard in her life. And though bats do not have eyebrows, Hermione could have sworn that she _felt_ him arch a brow at her.

 _ **Severus?**_

 _I didn't wish to wake you, but it appears we have a….furry little problem._

His thoughts caressed her mind and she closed her eyes with pleasure at his whispery voice.

 _Also, don't look down...and don't let go._

Hermione's eyes opened and she stared back at him with confusion. After all, her world had already been turned upside down the first time she'd gone small and fuzzy, but his had not. And, as she disregarded his advice (stupidly, she had to admit, as she realized that her world was _literally_ upside down), she realized that, they were both hanging upside down from the ceiling in the Shrieking Shack. The gaping hole where the front door had been was shattered beyond repair, but with the gentle rays of sunrise touching the floor of the room, Hermione suddenly realized that they had more pressing matters than the possible return of their captor now that he was healed.

Severus was a _vampire_. And vampires... _burned_ in sunlight.

 _ **NO! NO! NO! I won't lose you now!**_

Without a thought to her own safety, Hermione clawed her way towards the bat that was Severus, spreading her wings as her mind cried out with fear. He folded his wings over her and she quivered with fear at the thought of losing him.

 _Shhhhhh….calm yourself, Hermione. Look._

He drew out one of his wings as far as it would go and placed its tip in a small beam of sunlight.

Nothing.

 _It seems that while I am...like this...the sun does not affect me in the usual way._

Hermione's tiny heart began to beat more slowly as she rubbed her muzzle against his fuzzy stomach to calm herself, and his wing wrapped around her in a gentle hug.

 _ **Have you ever flown before? Is this new for you too? Why is your fur black? Oh, I have a million questions.**_

 _Indeed, you do._

The voice in her head sounded rather bemused instead of the normal irritation with which he tended to counter her incessant questions in classes.

Her keen ears began to pick up on something else in the air, the sound of a high voice calling out raggedly from deeper in the house.

 _ **Who is-?**_

 _She's been looking for me for hours. It would be humorous if it wasn't so pathetic. Once again, I didn't want to wake you. I doubt that she even knows we're here._

Hermione felt a stab of fear.

 _ **If the sunshine is safe, then we should leave as soon as possible!**_

 _Patience, my love. As I said. I. Was. Waiting. For. You. To. Be. Properly. Rested._

Forgetting her altered state, Hermione tried to grin, but it looked more like she was baring her tiny little fangs and Severus chuckled softly, his voice filling her mind with that velvetine sound that no one else could match.

 _Would you like to go first? Show an old bat how it's done?_

Hermione didn't realize that bats could blush, but she managed anyway.

 _ **I...I've never taken off without a runway before.**_

He nuzzled her softly and she squeaked with approval at his touch.

 _I believe in you, Hermione. You are, after all, the brightest witch of your age._

 _ **I never thought that you were one to listen to Skeeter's silly terms for us.**_

 _Only when she is right. Which is exactly once in a thousand years._

Hermione snort-sneezed.

 _That noise is far more adorable when it is you who is making it._

 _ **Where will we go from here, Severus? I hardly think it will be appropriate for me to fly into my dorm through the window.**_

 _I have my ways into the castle. They should be just as easy to enter as a bat._

 _ **But what about our wands? My beaded handbag?**_

Hermione knew that her wand had to be somewhere nearby, and it galled her to think that Pansy, the awful bitch who'd started it all might get her nasty hands on it.

Severus laughed, his mental voice a cryptic whisper.

 _Do not worry. I shall remedy that particular...issue once we are safely in my quarters._

Hermione's stomach flip-flopped as she thought about seeing his quarters...his _bedroom_...for the first time. She almost forgot to be nervous about trying a new take-off regimen.

 _ **Ok, here I go! You know, Severus, I think I'm actually getting this mental...uwahhhhhhhhhhh!**_

Hermione's claws scrambled for purchase for one frightening moment and her eyes snapped wide as she began to plummet towards the dusty, bloody and broken floor below.

But then, just as she'd nearly gone numb with terror, she spread her arms wide and felt the air catch her membranous wings. She nearly glided into the door frame, but banked sharply, only clipping it slightly with one wingtip.

Flapping her wings with a bit more confidence, Hermione flew around Severus and squeaked happily.

 _ **Come on, Severus! It's not that hard! Just remember to open your wings and flap them.**_

 _Indeed. One would think that, after having been nicknamed the Dungeon Bat for many years, I would have a better grasp of the idea. Well, then. Here goes nothing._

Hermione's heart raced as he too loosened his grasp on the rafter and began to fall, but just before she thought he'd dropped too low, he snapped his dark wings wide as she had done and began to climb through the air until he was swooping after her playfully.

 _As I thought. It's rather similar to another sort of swooping that I am quite accomplished at, if I do say so myself._

Hermione was torn between wanting to scold him for scaring the daylights out of her by feigning ignorance and snorting at his quip. After all, it _was_ rather true that he was well-known for swooping about in human form as well.

Pansy's voice was growing louder as footfalls began to move towards their room. She sounded like she was muttering to herself.

"I don't think he's here. No! I don't know where he could have gone! _I tore his throat out,_ for Merlin's sake, _Bellatrix_! No one just gets up after an injury like that!"

Hermione's blood froze at the name.

 _ **No. No. It can't be. She's dead.**_

 _Hermione, I think it may be a good time to take your earlier advice._

Severus swooped rather gracefully through the door and into the hall. Hermione nearly forgot to beat her wings for a moment as her mind flashed back to the gleam of a knife at her throat, stinging her flesh as that hated word, marking her as subhuman in the Wizarding World, was carved into her arm with a merciless hand.

 _Hermione! Come away!_

The sound of his voice in her head was tinged with an urgency that she'd never heard before, but she didn't need to be told twice. She beat her wings, folding them close to her body as she shot through the doorframe. A surprised shout filled her sensitive ears as she narrowly avoided Pansy's head, and she could hear a second whispery voice cry out angrily as Pansy waved her arms in front of her face with disgust.

"What do you mean 'they're getting away?/ I don't... _what_? _Bats_? FUCK!" Pansy roared, behind them as they shot through the hallway towards the bright hole that signalled freedom from their captivity.

A bright shot of red light nearly hit her wing and Hermione squeaked with terror as she pumped her wings back and forth until they were a blur. Severus shot through the door first and she reached the opening right behind him, her wing folding in as a Blasting Hex hit the doorframe and splinters of wood flew through the air, bits hitting her body in a rain of shrapnel. But then, she was blessedly free and clear, and they were climbing, gaining altitude in the early morning sky. Hermione turned her head back to see a tiny form standing outside the entrance to the Shack, a barely visible glowing outline of a very familiar witch standing next to her, both of them shaking their fists at the sky as their mouths simultaneously contorted with rage.

 _ **Free! Free! We're finally free!**_

Hermione's heart sung as she beat her wings quickly and caught up with Severus, who was gliding languidly through the air to allow for her to catch up. She attempted a loop in the air, but it ended up as more of a lopsided triangle. Still, she didn't mind one whit. Her heart was full of joy at the thought that they were finally out of that horrible place with that horrible girl and her horrible plans.

And...Bellatrix...no...she couldn't be _real_...could she?

She and Severus soared over the Forbidden Forest towards the castle, their altered bodies apparently not confusing the wards one bit, as they shot right through without any issue. At one point, they spread their wings out until they were taut, their wingtips brushing momentarily against one another before they broke away only to fly in tandem once more.

 _Come, now, Hermione, I have much to show you. And I shall also be happy to remedy your...wand situation._

His voice caressed her mind and she squeaked happily, content to follow him to the ends of the Earth, or at least as far as her wings would carry her.

And as the sun broke over the hill in full, catching the castle in all its imposing glory, Hermione knew that everyone would be just fine as long as she had Severus by her side.


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note:** So yesterday, I had this chapter 90% done before my 2 year old decided to climb on me and demand to go to bed. Which means that I have to lay down with her until she drifts off and, sleep deprived bat that I am, I zonked out too. Hence, today's somewhat longer chapter.

* * *

I would also like to address the concerns I received from a guest commentator about bats and blindness. First of all, most bats have fairly good eyesight, but never fear! I as an author did the due diligence of researching about about vampire bats on Wikipedia and this is what I found:

" **While most other bats have almost lost the ability to maneuver on land, vampire bats are an exception.[8] They can run using a unique, bounding gait in which the forelimbs are used instead of the hindlimbs to propel forward, as the wings are much more powerful than the legs.[8]** This ability likely evolved independently within the bat lineage.[8] Three pads under the thumb function like a sole.[2] It is also capable of leaping in various directions, magnitudes and temporal sequences.[9] When making a jump, the bat pushes up with its pectoral limbs. The hindlimbs keep the body over the pectoral limbs which are stabilized by the thumbs.[10]

 **Common vampire bats have good eyesight. They are able to distinguish different optical patterns and may use vision for long-range orientation.[2]** These bats also have well-developed senses of smell and hearing: the cochlea is highly sensitive to low-frequency acoustics, and the nasal passages are relatively large.[2] They emit echolocation signals orally, and thus fly with their mouths open for navigation.[11] They can identify a metal strip 1 centimetre (0.39 in) wide at a distance of 50 centimetres (20 in), which is moderate compared to other bats.[11]"

I have bolded the above for emphasis. Vampire bats are also agile unlike most other bats, but I'm going to say that newly transformed vampire bats Hermione and Severus haven't developed their "bat legs" quite yet, lol.

I hope you enjoy the chapter! As always, let me know what you think about it!

* * *

 **Chapter 26: Blood Magic**

Severus flew around the side of the castle to the secret entrance he used to reach his chambers with Hermione close behind him. Thankfully, the wards shivered as he spoke the password in his mind and the false wall admitted the two of them without any mishaps. It wouldn't do to turn into two bat-pancakes just as soon as they'd escaped from captivity. For the millionth time, he was very thankful for his unending paranoia in the era of Voldemort's return. It had been a very good move to set them using Occlumency to mark password nonverbally.

During the war, Severus knew that he could have, ostensibly, helped get Death Eaters into the castle at any point. Hell, he could have called for a "Slytherin Parent-Child Conference Day" and half of the Death Eater army would have had unfettered access to the hallowed walls of Hogwarts. He was very thankful that Voldemort and the pure-blood supremacists that followed him had tradition and rules stuck so far up their arses that they didn't seem to understand that _flexibility_ was a thing that didn't simply pertain to one's wand. It was no wonder that adamantly pure-blooded lines were dying out. Not only were they horribly backwards in so many ways, but they refused to learn anything about the muggle world with pathetically hilarious results.

Oh well, he hadn't been interested in encouraging them. He knew they'd shoot themselves in the foot at some point (because they didn't even know how guns worked, the poor sods), and simply sat back, watching them destroy themselves. It had been painful (often for himself), but he was glad that it was over now.

 _Only to make room for a new hot mess._

 _ **What do you mean, Severus?**_

Oh, right. She could hear his thoughts now if he happened to broadcast them hard enough. _Great_.

 _I am simply torn between wishing to throttle Miss Parkinson for her...efforts...and wanting to thank her for...what we have, now._

 _ **She tried to murder you, Severus!**_

 _Yes, but, as you well know, I am a rather difficult man to kill._

 _ **That is true, but I still want to tear her throat out and see how she likes it.**_

Severus chuckled darkly at this, delighting in the sound of Hermione's adorable little bat squeak-sneeze as she beat her wings and kept pace with him.

 _Just through one more ward, and we shall be safe._

Hermione squeaked her assent and he pulled down the wards momentarily by tracing the shape of a rather complex rune in his head.

He would never tell anyone this, but he'd set the wards specifically to be used without a wand. Not only had he been forced to fight without one many a time due to the Marauders and their cruelty as well as his early, much abused days as a Death Eater, but it was always a possibility that Voldemort might find out his double-agent status and take his wand away. This was why Severus had always kept a Portkey to Hogwarts under the skin on the inside of his left bicep. It had hurt to insert it and would certainly hurt like hell to dig it out, but it was the only way he'd known to be absolutely certain that he could get to it in time. It hadn't done him any good in the end, though, as the castle was under siege and he'd been too busy dealing with the bite of a giant poisonous snake and passing into comatose, death-like state to think about using it. He'd removed it not long after he'd recovered, though he knew it would leave yet another scar.

But like most scars from the past, some things remained.

He completed the rune's glowing shape in his head and the ward let them past with a tingling sensation that made him want to laugh. It happened every time, and he always fought the urge to give into it. This time, however, his heart soared at the thought of Hermione gliding by his side and he let out a rather undignified sneeze-squeak of his own.

The stone corridor was growing colder, with a slight dampness that signalled the chilly cheer of his dungeon quarters approaching. It was the closest thing to a true home he'd ever had.

 _ **You know, Severus, that reminds me, do you have any idea how to de-batify us?**_

 _I was hoping that you might be able to shed some metaphorical light on that particular piece of the puzzle, seeing as you mentioned having done it before. But first, I think it's probably a good idea to think of one other bit of information._

 _ **And what is that?**_

 _Landing._

They shot through the back of a spelled painting, which only appeared solid from the other side and into a large, stone room with no windows save one long expanse of glass that looked out into the depths of the Black Lake, far deeper than the sunlight could penetrate.

 _ **Landings? I'm not good at landings!**_

 _Then, might I suggest something soft? Like, say, the bed?_

Severus wasn't one for keeping large fluffy throw pillows on his bed, but it was obviously the softest choice in the room. It had a dark mahogany frame and looked rather severe, but it suited him and at least it was long enough that his feet didn't hang off the end. The mattress was particularly firm, as anything softer made Severus feel as though he were sinking in quicksand. There were two densely-packed feather pillows on the bed, not because anyone ever joined him in his chambers, but because he'd found that putting a pillow under his feet seemed to help with the nerve pain that remained after having been tortured with the Cruciatus curse. His duvet was thin but satiny to the touch, and he secretly loved the feeling of it pulled up to his throat when he decided to use it.

For, while vampires did not necessarily need sleep the way that normal human being did, they could still sleep if they wished to do so, and they entered a hibernation-like state if they sustained injuries. From many years of experience, Severus found that, even with his salve, his average daily exposure to daylight required about 5-6 hours of rest to fully heal. This meant that he had more time to read and study, or take on extra late-night patrols of the castle.

But none of this had prepared him for trying to land with dignity in the body of a small, flying mammal. He flopped onto the bed with a rather loud THWACK, his tiny nose smushed into the duvet as he tumbled arse over ears before coming to rest on his back up against one of the pillows. Hermione followed, doing a bit better, but also finding herself with her wings flopped out to either side as she lay panting on her belly.

 _Well, at least we're not dead._

His wry comment made Hermione giggle merrily in his head as she pulled her wings in at her sides and pulled herself up onto them, doing a rather good job using her little feet and wings moving in tandem to make her way over to where he lay on his back,

 _As lovely as it's been flying about in the living embodiment of my nickname, I think it may be a good idea to slip into something a bit more...humanoid...don't you agree?_

 _ **That's just the thing. I didn't really do anything to turn back...I...I just needed you...needed to help you and I...turned back.**_

 _Hmmm….well, do you mind if I test a little theory, no matter how embarrassing it might be?_

Severus finally righted himself and used Hermione's lead to bend his wings so that he could maneuver more closely to the smaller vampire bat with brownish silvery fur.

 _ **What are you-?**_

Before Hermione could rightly react, Severus had begun licking her muzzle, grooming at her face and nuzzling against her. She squeaked happily at his attention and leaned into his affectionate display.

 _Now, think of how much more enjoyable this would be if we were human-shaped._

He could feel her pulse quicken against him, and moments later, both of them had shifted once more back into their human forms. Hermione lay sprawled over Severus, both of them utterly naked and somewhat grimy.

He kissed her neck and drew his tongue against her jawline, making her squeak in an approximation of her bat-self.

"I have heard of dirty talk in bed, but this is ridiculous. Shall we continue this conversation in the bath after I've tended to your wounds?" Severus said softly, his fingers running softly over her dirt-and-dust-streaked belly and coming to rest next a number of little slivers that stuck painfully out of her arm.

"Huh, I almost hadn't noticed that," Hermione said' looking at her battered arm. Actually, that reminds me…"

Hermione looked at him guiltily as though she was trying not to ruin the moment, the question quivering at the tip of her tongue.

He sighed. "Come on, then. Ask your question before you explode."

"I...if it's not too much trouble, I remember that you said that we could get our wands and such back?" Hermione said softly. "There's a very precious necklace in my beaded handbag...it's one of the last things my parents gave me before...everything happened."

Severus winced at his forgetfulness, but he had to admit that having Hermione's naked body pressed up against his that made it hard to think, and he cursed his libido for making him so easily distracted, when he'd never had a problem with keeping his priorities straight before.

It was in her scent, in the feeling of her warmth against him. It was like coming home for the first time after a life of wandering in a barren wasteland and he simply couldn't get enough of it. His hands were shaking as he helped her up to a sitting position and she looked at him in askance, waiting patiently for his reply. He noticed that she didn't even seem concerned with the state of her undress.

 _She trusts me._

The thought bubbled up through his belly, though it was still hard to believe. He hoped he hadn't broadcasted this to her, but if she had heard his sudden unbidden realization in her mind, she was being kind enough not to point it out.

He licked his lips and pressed them together before turning his gaze to her, steeling himself against going mindless with lusty thoughts again.

"Yes, of course. I shall start immediately." He said softly. "If you would like, you can run the bath and I shall take care of the rest."

"Are you _sure_?" She tried to hide the curiosity in her voice by asking a question, but he could hear it.

"Do you wish to see how I shall accomplish this seemingly impossible task, Hermione?" He purred, smirking a little as her cheeks went pink and she nodded, leaning forward eagerly.

"Very well. First, my robes and wand, as well as yours."

Severus slipped off of the bed, his legs a bit wobbly from having not been human, and traced a runic pattern in the air in front of the top left drawer on his nearby writing desk. Inside was a small, black box. He pulled it out and set it on the desk top. Then, he pulled out a sheet of blank parchment from another drawer and set it next to the box.

"You are, I believe, familiar with Bloodletting Pens?" He asked.

Hermione shuddered and nodded. No one would soon forget Umbridge and her horrible punishment.

"This," he said, his expression focused as he unhooked the clasp with a tiny metallic click, "is attuned to my blood and my blood alone. Due to the nature of my condition, I have become rather accomplished at using Blood Magic."

"But-!" Hermione protested, her words cut off as he raised a hand to silence her.

"I am well aware that it is considered a Dark Art. Many who seek to use Blood Magic do so for nefarious reasons, and there are indeed a number of spells, magical objects and potions that are made using blood taken unwillingly through assault, murder or rape, but they are a small fraction of the total. In fact, most Blood Magic calls only for the blood of the caster."

Hermione's nostrils flared with the obvious pleasure of learning something she did not yet know, and Severus felt the corners of his mouth quirking upward at the sight of her fingers quivering to hold a quill pen of her own, likely to take notes.

"I had not...intended...for this to be a lesson." he said smoothly, allowing the knowing smirk to pull up his lips.

"Too late, Severus. I'm well and truly hooked, but then again I suppose you already knew that," Hermione replied, grinning expectantly.

"And, as you and I ought to be getting clean and dressed instead of playing the nudist teacher and student, I shall get right to the point. Which is, that this pen can call forth items that I have attuned to my blood. Specifically, my robes and my wand."

Hermione's eyes went wide. No doubt she was wondering exactly why he'd go through so much trouble to do such a thing. She'd obviously never heard from Harry's dead godfather about all of the times that the Marauders had literally Vanished his clothing at inopportune times and left him with only his rucksack or a book to cover his nudity. He'd scrimped and saved, but eventually, he'd been able to buy the special pen from the tiny disreputable pawn shop down Knockturn Alley during Christmas break and he'd done all of the research himself, using the unlimited Restricted Area access he'd obtained from Slughorn, who would sign anything if it was placed under his moustache while he was busy with his evening cordial and wished to have students out of his office as soon as possible.

"I simply write the items that must be returned," Severus pressed the tip of the pen to the parchment and winced slightly as his blood was magically drawn into it, "and lo and behold! It returns to me."

He wrote _my wand is on this desk_ in his spidery handwriting and within seconds, the dark length of it had materialized on top of it as though by magic.

Well, to be fair, it _was_ magic, but that obviously did not make it any less impressive to Hermione, whose eyes were like saucers.

"I've never seen anything like this!" she marveled, standing and leaning over his desk to stare at the wand, which he picked up and held in his hand, inspecting it. She didn't even seem to remember the fact that she was still very naked, her mind in full-on Academic Mode. Severus had to look at the floor to keep his composure.

"Hermione, there is still much about the world that you do not know. There is still much that I do not know, either. The one thing that have always known to be true is the fact that there is always more to learn. Even after we have graduated, we are all still students in one way or another."

"I still don't understand how this will help you retrieve my wand, though," Hermione said glumly.

"Patience, Hermione."

He then hurriedly wrote _my robes and all that lie within them are hanging in my wardrobe_ and watched his blood scrawl across the parchment in scarlet words. It always hurt more to spell it out so blatantly, but he'd found that the magic was far more exact and potent when it was specific.

The sound of fluttering robes came from his wardrobe and he set his wand back on the desk, striding over to pull open the doors. He rifled through the disheveled, ripped cloth until he'd found Hermione's wand, which had been tucked away into one of the inner pockets.

He handed it to her gently, holding it in both hands as though offering her a sword.

"It was wrong of me to take this from you," he said, the guilt rising in his throat. "I...I am so very sorry, Hermione. I hope that you have it in you to forgive me for dragging you into all of this."

Hermione took her wand and gave him a soft smile.

"While there are a number of things about the past few days that I would definitely have changed, _this…_ " she trailed off, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss him softly on the lips, "...is not one of them."

"My sentiments, exactly," Severus replied, kissing her back as he tried very, very hard not to get swept away by her maddening scent, the heat of her body, the perfection of her soft skin…

He forced himself to cough and backed away from her slightly, though not quickly enough.

"I see that my kiss has awoken the sleeping prince," Hermione said, arching her eyebrow with a wicked smile as she looked at the very place he had hoped she wouldn't if he was going to focus on anything beyond the urgency of his arousal.

"Oh? Is that _so_? Perhaps, then, you would like to _kiss it_ , hmmm?" he asked, arching his eyebrow as well.

Hermione went scarlet. She'd obviously thought that she'd caught him off guard, but he wasn't about to be embarrassed so easily, especially now.

"Bathroom. Now." she said, her voice a low growl as her eyes filled with the same heat that he could feel rising in his own gaze.

"Oh?" he said smugly, unable to resist getting a rise out of her, "Didn't you say you wanted me to get your handbag for you?"

" _Bugger_ my handbag!" Hermione exclaimed as she set her wand down on the desk next to his, "I need _you_. _Now_. You don't understand, Severus, my body...it's like I'm on fire and I…. _ahnnnnn!_ "

She hugged her arms close to herself and shivered, her expression raw and full of desire. And, just like that, all of his self-control vanished, and he was upon her, not caring that they were grimy and dusty. He kissed her deeply and felt her body move against his as she shuddered with bliss and kissed him back. Her fingers trailed down his back and she clung to him, crying out his name softly as he kissed her neck and licked at her throat.

At this rate, he wasn't sure if they'd ever get to the bathroom, but he found that he really didn't care as long as Hermione was by his side.


	27. Chapter 27

Author's Note: So yeah, you might have guessed already, but there's plenty of sexytimes in this chapter. Don't worry! There will also be some cleaning in addition to the...er...dirty stuff. Heh. ;)

* * *

 **Chapter 27: Washing and Wishing**

Hermione was rather thankful that they were both naked already. It made everything so much easier. They'd somehow found themselves against the wall near where his bathroom door was located, but they found that kissing was more interesting than a hot bath and bubbles. She slid her hands down the hard line of his belly and stroked the slightly protruding hip bones at his pelvis as she kissed him deeply, pulling back to see his reaction.

" _Lower_ ," Severus growled, his eyes closed with pleasure. "Please. I ache _so_ when you touch me like that."

"Oh, really? Maybe I like teasing you even more than I like fulfilling my own _ache_." Hermione's fingers traced circles around his hips, her mouth turned up in a playful smirk.

When she finally stroked her fingers down his shaft, cupping the tip of his erection, he moaned softly and bucked softly against her palm.

"Yessss," he hissed, " _oh_...yessss."

"Oh come now," Hermione said, blushing when she realized that her words had more than one meaning. "No, wait, that came out wrong..."

"Don't worry, Hermione," he replied, his breathing heavy as she began to stroke him slowly, her grip firm and increasingly sure, "I shall be sure not to _come_ anywhere unless I'm _with_ you."

Hermione stilled her hand as a throb of desire pulsed outward from her core, leaving her legs trembling slightly as she leaned back against the stability of the wall.

"Are you... _troubled_?" he asked breathlessly, his lips tickling against her ear as he bent down to kiss her neck. "Would you like to stop?"

"No...no...I…" Hermione didn't know how to put it into words.

"Hermione…" his breath was hot and sweet and she could feel the tips of his fangs grazing gently against her throat. "I would never force you to do anything that you did not wish to do."

"I know...it's just…"

"Hermione...you know that I abhor playing Twenty Questions."

"It's stupid, really…it's just...that...I feel dirty in the _bad_ way...and... _gross_."

Severus pulled away from her and looked down at her, his dark eyes unreadable. He looked almost solemn, his fangs retracting back behind his lips where she could no longer see them, and she nearly expected him to snap at her or say something angrily.

So when he started shaking with silent laughter, she simply gaped at him.

" _Don't_ laugh at me!" she said, blushing furiously, her shock turning to irritation rather more quickly than she'd expected.

"Hermione, don't you see?" He smirked at her, but it was not cruel and his voice was gentle. "You could never be gross. You could be covered in Acromantula innards and Flobberworm mucous and I would still want to kiss you."

Hermione stuck out her tongue and made a disgusted face.

"I would _not_ want to be kissed in such a horrid state, though!" she exclaimed.

"Point taken, though I reserve the right to disagree. However, if _you_ feel gross, then we shall have to remedy that situation." Before she could say another word, Severus had wrapped his arms around her tightly and his nose was against hers as he spoke in a deep rumble that made her close her eyes, enjoying the sound of it. "Now, then, up we go."

Hermione squeaked rather embarrassingly as he picked her up with seemingly little trouble.

"How…?" she gasped.

"Vampires are a bit more hardy than you might think, Hermione," he purred, nuzzling her cheek with his nose.

Hermione pulled her legs in as he strode through the door into his bathroom. It wasn't nearly as big as the girl's Prefect bath, but it was fairly bigger than Hermione had expected it to be. There was a large, marble bathtub that appeared to have been carved out of the floor itself, as well as a stone shower to the very right of it. When Hermione looked at him in askance, he merely shrugged.

"This level of decadence comes with being Head of Slytherin. All of this was put in more than a century ago and is not exactly my own personal style, but you won't see me complaining. I'll have you know that when I first moved in after Slughorn retired, the walls were the most awful color of mauve and the wallpaper... _ugh_! But that is neither here nor there. Sometimes, I like a quick shower, other times, I need a long soak," he said, "but, in your case, you will need to shower off the grime first if you truly want to enjoy the bath."

Hermione started to protest, but as she thought about it, he made a lot of sense. If she washed the majority of the dirt and embedded debris off of her body first, it wouldn't marinate in the bathtub with her.

Carefully, he set her down on the plush rug next to the shower.

"Go on inside," he said, gesturing with his hand, "I shall run the taps and, knowing you, add a ludicrous amount of bubbles."

Hermione bit her lip as the mental image of the two of them doing delightfully wicked things in the shower together filled her head. She wasn't sure if it was his mental image or her own, but when she noticed he'd stopped speaking and had turned, heat flaring in his dark eyes, she realized that she'd broadcast her intentions without meaning to do so.

"Is that...what you truly wish?" he asked quietly, his whole body growing eerily still as he waited for her response.

"Y...yes," she said softly, reaching out towards his hand shyly and entwining her fingers in his. Gently, she pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the stone shower, tugging on his hand to let him know she wished for him to follow her.

He did so without reserve, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

The water was instantly warm as she twisted the taps, a definite plus of being in a magical castle with water that was heated by, well, _magic_. Hermione closed her eyes as the water fell upon her, almost forgetting everything as the heat of the water fell upon her face and ran down the length of her body. It was only when his hands snaked around behind her and the wetness of his body slid against hers firmly that she remembered that he was there with her.

"Would you like... _assistance_?"

His voice was at her ear, and instinctively, she pressed backwards against him, feeling the hard line of his torso slide up against her back. The water made them both slick and Hermione nearly hummed with pleasure as he seemingly pulled a soapy sponge from nowhere and began lathering her body gently.

"A girl could get used to this," Hermione murmured, and she could feel her fangs slowly descending down over her bottom lip of their own accord.

"I see. Then I shall be certain to get you used to _this_ , yes?"

Hermione gasped as he slid the soapy sponge around her shoulders and down across her chest, taking extra care to gently scrub around both of her breasts until her nipples were erect despite the warmth of the water.

"Then... _lower_..." he whispered, his lips tickling her ear as he slid lower, soaping up her belly and drawing lazy circles of suds around her hips.

"Ahhh...hahhhhn!" Hermione nearly yelped as he pressed the sponge against her pubic mound, sliding it lower against her hips and against the apex of her thighs.

"Shall I go even... _lower_?" he purred, his erection pressing against her arse, even as her legs quivered and she bent forward against the stone wall, her feet sliding apart just enough for him to make his way between her legs, scrubbing gently and lathering her until she thought she would go mad with wanting him.

The water poured hot and insistent upon their bodies, and Hermione was soon sud-free once more.

"Hermione, listen," he said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice, which immediately made her turn back to see that the corners of his mouth were indeed turned up, exposing his fangs. "I feel that I shall go mad with wanting you."

He grabbed her hips from behind with his long, slender fingers, curling them around until they dug into her skin just enough for her to feel the pressure of them upon her and she moaned, pressing up against his erection as though she were in heat.

" _Nyahhhh_!"

"To _feed_." He'd pulled her hair to one side gently and his fangs were grazing the sensitive skin of her neck.

" _Nnnhnnnn_!"

"To _fuck_." She could feel him nudging against her labia, as she went up on her toes as she rubbed back against him to make up for their height difference.

"Oh god, yes, Severus, just like _that_!" she said, her voice echoing against the stone as his fangs slid into her neck just as he slid his cock into her as well.

He moved slowly at first, and Hermione pressed her hands against the rough stone of the shower to provide leverage, thankful for the Anti-Slip charms that he'd obviously placed on the floor as the water steamed the air and kept their bodies slick. He moaned deeply against her neck, making her quiver with the sensation as he fed from her and slid deep inside of her, bottoming out against her cervix in a most delightfully intense manner. And then, he began sending her the sensations he was feeling as he moved inside of her, and she nearly went incoherent with the pleasure of it, the sound of her cries creating an erotic harmony with his own muffled moans.

"Come with me, Hermione," he gasped at last, his fangs gently pulling free of her neck. "I want to feel you shudder around me as I fill you to bursting."

Though he knew that vampires were sterile, his mind inevitably began to imagine his mated partner heavy with child, her belly swollen with his progeny...full of something beautiful they'd made together out of pleasure, out of their love. It was nearly too much to bear.

 _Can you, Severus?_ Hermione's mind whispered back as she cried out, tiny flutters of near-orgasmic sensation undulating through her. _Can I...we….make a baby together?_

His belly swooped as her words filled his mind and he groaned, feeling the orgasm building in the base of his spine, ready to pour outwards through his body.

"Oh, yes!" he panted, his fingers pressing more deeply into her hips as he thrust against her. "Just...like... _that_!"

Both of them cried out sharply as they both hit their respective limits, their bodies shuddering in frantic, orgasmic bliss. He pressed hard against her, holding himself deep inside of her, kissing her neck where the fang marks were nearly completely healed, as they both caught their breaths.

Finally, she turned and faced him and he could see her fangs were fully extended. She kissed him deeply, and he offered his neck to her to feed from him as the spray of the showerhead misted her voluminous hair.

"Hermione," he said softly, his arms wrapped around her as she fed, "Though I know it may be disappointing to hear, vampires are sterile. There is no way for us to have a family, even if we were to wish it so."

"I know that," she replied as she pulled her fangs from his neck, "But...it just felt right, you know? To say. If it could happen, I'd welcome it."

He wasn't quite sure if Hermione was a fully Changed vampire. From her shapeshifting abilities to the Siring shockwaves that had passed between them, it seemed as though she had, but he couldn't be sure. Not only had it happened far more quickly than a normal Siring, but shapeshifting was not something that any newly made vampires could achieve. Also, he himself was not yet ancient enough to develop such an ability either. And yet...somehow...

"We've made the impossible happen." Hermione said, gazing up at him lovingly.

"Who knows?" Severus quipped, "Perhaps you'll surprise me and give birth to a litter of vampire bat pups."

Hermione flushed. "I don't think that's how it works, Severus."

"Well, then, perhaps we should change back and do some... _research…_ "

"Oh, you're terrible!" Hermione replied, swatting him playfully on the shoulder.

"Well, then, would you like me to wash your hair? I promise that, contrary to what most people think, I'm quite accomplished at lathering hair with shampoo." His grin was small, but it was there, and it was all for her.

"I think I'll take you up on your offer, then," she replied, grinning back. "And when you're done, I'll repay the favor! You're not the only one with enviable soapy sponge skills!"

"We shall see about that, Hermione," he said, somewhat snarkily. "We shall…. _see_."

* * *

They were both rather pruny and their cheeks scarlet from having been in the bath for far too long, but by the time Hermione and Severus emerged from the bathroom, they were quite clean indeed. Hermione had wrapped her bushy hair up in a towel-turban to wring the excess moisture out of it, and Severus had insisted on wrapping a towel around her to keep her from getting cold. He merely used a singular towel wrapped around his waist, though he knew that there was little reason to do so. When he was with Hermione, nudity felt as natural as being clothed. There was no shame when she looked upon him. In fact, it was rather the opposite.

Though they both had their scars and flaws and imperfections, none of that mattered. For when he saw her, he saw everything that he loved in her. And he knew that she saw him similarly, for how else would she have ever been able to look past his ugly nose and his somewhat pinched cheeks and his myriad of scars?

He was about to grab his wand to Scourgify the duvet (which still had little marks on it from their earlier crash landings), when suddenly a rather familiar voice called out from his fireplace.

"Severus? Are you there? Please answer! It's Minerva!"

He winced. Of course Minerva would be irritated. He'd shirked all of his Head of House duties and hall monitoring shifts all weekend, even though it hadn't been his intention to do so.

Hermione's eyes were as big as saucers and he motioned for her to go back into the bathroom, which she did quickly. A few fingers from Minerva's hand was waving from the fire, but Severus knew she couldn't see through. He specifically made sure to keep his Floo connection partially closed so that people couldn't simply stare through the fire anytime they wished.

"Yes, Minerva, I'm here. I've had a hell of a weekend," he said tiredly. "What are you so upset about anyway?"

"Have you looked at the time?" Minerva's voice was nearly a shriek. "Your first year Defense class _started five minutes ago_!"

"WHAT?!" Severus started and looked over at his wall clock and his eyes widened.

Bloody hell. She was right.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28: Pressing Matters**

"I'm calling in sick today, Minerva. Find someone else to cover my classes."

"You do know that teachers are supposed to alert me of potential absences at least two hours in advance, correct?" The Headmistress sounded rather chagrined.

"Look in my contract, Minerva," Severus replied tiredly. "Dumbledore made... _special_ provisions for me."

He could hear her sliding open a heavy cabinet door and shuffling paper around before a muttered string of curses erupted from the open Floo connection.

"There. You see, Minerva? I'm well within my rights." He knew he shouldn't rub it in her face, but the urge was rather tempting.

"So you are," she growled back, sounding a bit feral, "but for Merlin's sake, Severus, you can't expect me to find anyone on such short notice!"

"That is _your_ concern, not mine. Besides, I always charm the blackboards with my next lesson after every class, just in case," he replied sourly, "just say _Escribitus_ and then the year to reveal it. You can have Hagrid and his silly umbrella teach the class if you want. Hell, Buckbeak could do it as long as you get someone with a wand and an ounce of sense to make my lesson appear properly. Now, if you don't mind, I've got a roaring headache and it feels as though I've got pixies biting me in the arse. Good _day_ , Minerva."

"But, you never take days off, not even when you're horribly ill!" The Headmistress said in a suspicious, shrill tone of voice. "Oh good lord, you've got someone _there_ with you, don't you, Severus?!"

" _Good day, Minerva_ ," he repeated as evenly as he could muster, the bile rising in his throat.

"Who is it, then? Do I-" The Headmistress began to say something else, but her voice was cut off as he twisted a knob over the fireplace and shut off the connection altogether with a loud bang.

"Insufferable woman!" He groused, kicking at the rug. "Why must she attempt to make it her business who is in my chambers with me? If she grew a beard and developed a fondness for lemon drops, there would literally be no difference between her and Albus!"

"Severus...should I go?" Hermione said softly, peering out tentatively from the bathroom door.

He whirled around, his towel dropping to his feet as his wet hair slapped against the sides of his face, and was looming over her in seconds. Her eyes went wide and he realized too late that the fierce look on his face probably made him look as though he were about to shout angrily at her. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes for a moment and then reopened them slowly, his face relaxing into a neutral mask.

"Is that what you want?" he said, in a low, near-whisper, trying not to let his voice break. "To leave?"

She was _so_ close now, her cloying scent causing his nostrils to flare as he breathed her in, his anger and irritation at the tartan-clad headmistress dissipating almost instantly.

"Just because I _should_ do something doesn't meant that I _will_ ," Hermione replied, pulling the door open the rest of the way and closing the distance between the two of them, her eyes half-lidded. "You should know that by now, I've developed quite a bad habit of doing what is ill-advised if I know it is the right choice."

"Must I thank Potter and his red-haired menace for your delinquent streak?" He murmured, his lips whispering against hers as he slipped his arms around her, marveling at how her skin seemed to be even softer than before.

"Hah!" Hermione said defiantly, "Since when did I ever need help? Trouble has a way of finding me."

"Mmmm yes, such as a certain troll, if I remember correctly," he replied, kissing her once softly, then doing so once more until she'd gently licked his lips with her tongue, closing her eyes with obvious enjoyment as he sucked back a small pleasurable moan.

"Don't forget grumpy old vampires," she replied cheekily, pulling back just enough to flash a wide grin as she stared up at him.

"I'll have you know that I'm not... _old_...for a vampire, that is." He sniffed with mock offense.

"Oh, so _I'm_ the one robbing the cradle, then?" Hermione snickered, her fangs slipping out from behind her lip partially. "How utterly delightful."

"My sentiments _exactly_." He purred in her ear, his fangs extending as well. "Shall we...have a bit of brunch, then?"

"Oh, yes, let's." Hermione replied, sinking her fangs slowly into the side of his neck as he did the same to her.

And before his mind bloomed once more with the maddening pleasure of her bite, Severus was very glad indeed that he'd decided to bow out of his drudgerous duties as a professor for the day.

It was going to be very, very difficult to return on Tuesday morning.


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's Note** : I'm not going to go full dude on dude sexytimes in this story because a) I am not a dude and b) I am not good at writing dude on dude sexytimes. But yes, they like each other "like that" and yes, they are at the very least bisexual. The only real reason I'm specifying this is because a lot of bisexual people are erased (especially in literature), and that's awful. Don't worry. We're getting back to Draco and Pansy and Hermione and Severus and everyone else (maybe even Minerva, who knows!) in the next chapter! As always, thank you for your kind reviews and I appreciate you for sticking with my long-winded story!

* * *

 **Chapter 29: Heaven and Hell Are More Than Mere Places**

Erheldt lay back against the headboard of his rather sweat-soaked bed and smiled with satisfaction as Sanguini stretched out at his side, panting with spent ardor. He turned to face the elder vampire, his pupils so wide that his normally reddish-brown eyes seemed nearly black.

"How...how did you...?" Sanguini gasped at last.

"It is one of the many perks of being...me," Erheldt replied smoothly, his deep, rich voice rife with innuendo.

Sanguini shivered as though he'd been physically stroked by the sound of Erheldt's voice.

"I...that... _wow_." Sanguini was not used to being rendered a babbling fool by what had just transpired in that room, but part of him was obviously of the opinion that a repeat performance was warranted.

"Sunset is upon us, _ma_ _doux-sang_ ," Erheldt murmured, stroking Sanguni's back lightly. "We must prepare for the journey ahead. Do you have your wings yet?"

"I...I'm not very good at it, to be honest." Sanguini said embarrassedly, as he turned to look up at the elder vampire, "but I am willing to try."

"You will find that my blood lends...unexpected strength, Sanguini," Erheldt chuckled, tracing the fading fang marks on his bare shoulder. "Think of it as a gift. A gift from an old friend who knows how you have suffered and wishes to ease your burden."

Sanguni's hands flew to his mouth and a mortified blush spread over his face.

"I...I didn't mean to…"

Erheldt held up a finger and pressed it softly against the tip of Sanguini's nose with an amused expression.

"You would not have been able to do it unless I willed it so." he said with a bemused grin that faltered momentarily as Sanguini's shameful expression lingered. "Have I overstepped my boundaries in granting it? If so, I apologize."

"No, it's not that...I just...I hate it when my control goes away, when I can't remember what I've done. I feel like I am no better than an animal, one that should be put down to keep others safe." Sanguini's eyes seemed focused on something far away as he spoke. "The last three times I lost control of myself, terrible things happened. The third time, I forced the Change upon a reluctant subject. The other two before it were... _worse._ There were deaths. The Need...is a selfish and brutal thing...as am I, for I am its slave."

Erheldt rolled gracefully onto his side and entwined his reddish-tan fingers in Sanguini's pale fingers in one smooth motion, their noses touching gently as he inhaled slowly, savoring the younger vampire's almost floral scent.

"It is the nature of the _condition_ , not the nature of who _you_ are, Sanguini," he said gently. "Never forget that. Just as all magic requires a sacrifice of some sort in exchange for power, so do we find ourselves wrestling with dark urges that must be satisfied either in piece or in whole in exchange for longevity and the chance to be _more_ than mere mortals."

Sanguini sniffed loudly, though there were no tears in his eyes.

"I suppose that you're right, Erheldt." he said quietly. "Did you truly mean what you said earlier? About giving Severus a chance to explain himself?"

"Indeed," Erheldt replied, chuckling deeply. "Though we were not reunited under more auspicious conditions, I am thankful to see you again. I shall hear him out. And, if it is as you said, I shall stay my blade, regardless of Garbor's inevitable protest. You do realize, though, that just because I am not willing to mete out crooked justice, it does not mean that there aren't others who are less concerned with the spirit of our laws than they are with the _letter_ of them."

"I shall cross that bloodstained bridge if I get to it," Sanguini said, his free hand squeezing into a fist. "In my fear of Dumbledore's wrath and disgust at myself, I did not do right by Severus when he first took on the Change. I will not fail him now and watch him suffer yet again because of something he did not ask for. I _cannot_. If there is a hell, I do not wish to damn myself to it a second time."

Erheldt nuzzled Sanguini's cheek with a sigh and dropped his hand, rolling back to the other side of the bed before swinging his feet to the floor.

"As fun as this little respite has been, it is time for us to prepare. I must dress and finish packing. I trust that you will be able to test out your transformative abilities without my assistance?"

"I shall do my best." Sanguini said, his eyes intense with the obvious desire to make Erheldt proud.

"I know that you shall. You always do." Erheldt said as he grabbed his slacks from where they'd been draped over a nearby chair and pulled them up over his hips, his suspenders dragging a bit on the floor as he stuffed his arms into his button-up shirt and pulled it tight around his barrel-like chest.

Sanguini watched this slow display as though it were a show for his benefit, which, though he would never ask Erheldt, was likely the case. It didn't particularly matter how it was meant to seem, for it was just the two of them in the room, and his hungry looks were obviously well received by the knowing smirk that Erheldt wore on his face when he turned around, pulling the suspenders over his shoulders in a smooth, practiced motion.

"Your attention to detail never ceases to amaze me," Sanguini murmured as he lay on his belly with his chin resting on his hands. Belatedly, he realized that he probably looked more like a teenaged girl daydreaming about cute boys than a frightening and rather ancient vampire in that position, but he didn't care.

"It is important to appear civilized," Erheldt replied, as he straightened his cuffs and popped two onyx cufflinks into place, "for when one appears civilized, it is much easier to _be_ civilized. In my experience, it helps to define the often blurry lines between man and monster. Besides, what is the point of living forever unless one can perfect one's sense of style?"

Pulling on his jacket and outer coat, Erheldt buttoned and smoothed the front and turned, stretching his arms out as though making a grand entrance. He really did make an impressive impression. Sanguini nearly applauded before grasping his hands and stilling the impulse due to its utter ridiculousness.

"I shall leave you to your work as I prepare for mine," Erheldt said with a slight bow and an easy, open grin. "Good luck."

And as the ancient vampire strode from the room, Sanguini let out a sigh that sounded suspiciously lovelorn, covering his mouth as soon as he realized that Erheldt might have heard, though he gave no sign of having noticed it. Sure, they had a history, and had been good friends whenever they'd encountered each other, but Sanguini felt rather stupid for allowing the elder vampire to arouse such feelings. Part of him tried to justify the punch-drunk emotions running through his head as a side-effect of having consumed Erheldt's blood. After all, Sanguini had not partaken of another vampire's essence in a very, very long time. It was often considered taboo to do in all but the most intimate of relations.

But what they'd shared together was...well... _intimate_ was one way of putting it.

"I can worry about these things later," he muttered to himself. "For now, I need to focus on thinking batty thoughts."

Ten minutes later, a small, white-furred vampire bat awkwardly fluttered into the main room, doing circles around the furniture before landing on the sofa face first with a muffled squeak.

"Very good for your first time!" Erheldt let out a booming full-bodied laugh as he observed the little creature, who gave him a narrow eyed expression and chirped irritably.

And then, the elder vampire had shrunken his tools into his vest pocket and with a small sound like a vacuum tube, a small black-furred vampire bat was hovering in mid air, its ears pricked at attention as it turned smoothly and landed at the top of the sofa gracefully.

Sanguini gave Erheldt a squeak as though to say "Showoff!" and the two bats fluttered and swooped around the room together until Sanguini could hold his own in the air. Erheldt tipped his head to the right and Sanguini followed him into the fireplace, their bodies glowing green as the Floo activated automatically. The Floo network wouldn't take them all the way to Hogwarts, but it would bring them close enough to reach Severus in plenty of time to sort everything out before the sun rose again.

Sanguini only hoped that his theory was right, for though he'd never seen Erheldt _conduct_ _business_ in person, something told him that watching the man kill Severus would forever break any bond they'd built together.

The thought was nearly too much to bear, but it was too late to turn back. And so, he flew onward, hoping against hope that his dark thoughts would never come to pass.


	30. Chapter 30

Author's Note: This chapter may seem a bit like déjà vu, but I promise that I know where I'm going with this. Besides, it would be rather strange if no one noticed the rather glaring absence of a certain surly Slytherin and a bushy-haired know-it-all...ehehehehe...

* * *

 **Chapter 30: Red Monday**

For once in his life, Draco Malfoy was glad it was Monday morning. The hustle and bustle in the castle helped him to nearly forget the horror of Saturday night. He'd slept fitfully with nightmares of fleshy horrors calling out his name, but the horrifying creature did not return. He didn't feel like going to the Great Hall on Sunday, so he was eminently thankful that Greg and Daphne were kind enough to to bring him some food after they got back from meal times.

Draco had begun to feel somewhat guilty about having treated Goyle so poorly in the past. It was obvious that, while not the sharpest tool in the shed, Gregory Goyle was a loyal friend who enjoyed following those he held in great esteem. Even Draco's fall from grace had not deterred him from staying friends with the blond Slytherin. And, though he'd been somewhat scarce recently (and, remembering Daphne's state of undress on Saturday night, Draco couldn't blame him), Greg had done his best to help when Draco had needed him. Which was more than he could say for anybody else.

Without Crabbe's poor dietary influences and in part due to a bit of late puberty magic, Gregory Goyle had shot up to well over six feet tall and though he'd always look a bit thuggish, he was lean and fit with broad shoulders that made his hatchet-shaped face actually look somewhat normal in comparison. He'd even tried out and won the position of Keeper on Slytherin's Quidditch team, a role he was rather good at. Gryffindor didn't stand a chance without their star Seeker, though Ginny was no slouch at it.

More than a couple of Draco's fellow Slytherins looked disappointed when he finally emerged from his room and crossed the Common Room. He simply held his head high and closed his eyes to slits, daring anyone to hex him.

 _So much for protecting our own._

Slytherin had gotten better with Snape back in charge of it, but the older Slytherins remembered what it was like under the Carrows, and many wanted someone to blame, someone who they could make suffer. And who better than the boy who had crowed for years about Pureblood Supremacy?

Draco was glad that many of the secret passages had changed after the castle had been rebuilt. He'd discovered them out of necessity. It helped him to avoid the roving bands of Gryffindors looking to prey on him. They hissed at him in class and the Great Hall, but thankfully other than calling him a couple of rude names, he didn't have to worry much about his safety.

In the halls, it was different.

He'd nearly reached the doors to the Great Hall when a Slicing Hex landed on his shoulder and he let out a loud yelp before he could turn around, his wand raised.

"Who did that?!" he exclaimed, putting pressure on the wound with his free hand.

A group of girls wearing colors from all four Houses passed him tittering excitedly, but none of them appeared to have their wands drawn. He scanned the corridor, his breath tagged with pain. The cut was deep, and though he didn't wish to go up to the Infirmary, he knew there was no way he would be able to sit through class with such a deep wound.

It was only when he glimpsed a flash of robes as someone quickly rounded the corner to avoid being seen that he knew it was _them_. The Phoenix Boys. They were a group of three, sometimes four, Gryffindors led by Cormac McLaggan, whose main goal seemed to be to hex anyone wearing green. Unsurprisingly, Draco was at the top of their list of victims, though he tried very hard not to be caught unawares. Still, one against many wasn't a fair fight, even if he fought underhandedly.

Groaning, he pressed his fingers into his shoulder until the blood stopped pouring from the cut and he pushed his way into the Great Hall with his uninjured shoulder. Hastily, he strode over to the end of the Slytherin table and used his wand to levitate some food into a cloth napkin and knotted the top, shrinking the bundle and stuffing it into his robes, all the while looking around suspiciously for any others who wished to catch him off guard.

As he glanced at the Head Table, he found it odd when he realized that Snape was not in his normal seat. Certainly, the man never seemed to eat anything, but he was very punctual by nature. In fact, as Draco scanned the room, he realized that the Slytherin Head of House was not there at all.

Something sour twisted in his gut and instinctively, he looked over at the Gryffindor table. The Phoenix Boys had entered the room loudly while he had been gathering his food, but thankfully, they seemed to be more interested in filling their bellies than attacking Draco, and besides, there were adults watching. Even they weren't _that_ stupid. As Draco watched with narrowed eyes, it looked as though McLaggan was showing off a rather large magical tattoo of a phoenix, which he'd apparently had emblazoned across his forearm, its talons rending the flesh of a snake with its mouth open in an expression of agony. The other boys, who were obviously his followers, pulled up their sleeves as well, showing off similar images.

Draco rolled his eyes.

He was about to turn and leave when he did a double-take.

 _Where is Granger?_

His eyes went wide and darted back to Snape's empty spot at the table.

 _No. It couldn't be. It has to be a coincidence._

His mind reeled.

But then again, he and Hermione had been at the vampire-run nightclub...and...what if the Greasy Git really _was_ a vampire?

Of course, there were always the persisting rumors that Snape was a vampire. Even members of his House weren't certain, considering the fact that he never seemed to sleep. When he wasn't teaching, he was prowling the halls and catching wayward students.

He shook his head to clear the mental image of Snape sinking ugly, knife-like fangs into Hermione and sucking her dry. He know, logically, that vampires did not need to exsanguinate their human partners, but the thought had still lodged in his mind and would not let go.

For, while Draco had taken the Mark under duress, he knew that Snape had not. And everyone knew that the Death Eaters were a nasty group, especially back during the first Wizarding War.

He still wasn't sure if Snape had murdered in cold blood, but he'd watched Dumbledore fall from the Astronomy Tower. The dark professor _could_ kill easily if he wished.

Or if he felt the need.

At that moment, a plan began to form in Draco's mind. He would go down to Snape's quarters and fabricate some excuse, yes, his shoulder would be perfect. He could say that Madam Pomfrey was out of salve, so he'd come to his Head of House instead, as it was well known that Snape still brewed and stored prodigious amounts of useful potions, many of which were used in the Infirmary. And besides, he was Head Boy. He had every right to see his Head of House if there was a pressing need for it.

"Young man, are you aware that you are bleeding?"

Draco turned with a start. He'd been so lost in his thoughts that he'd forgotten that he was still standing next to Slytherin table holding a hand over his blood-soaked shoulder.

"Huh? Oh. Yes. Well. I suppose I am, yes." He replied distractedly.

A strong hand grabbed his uninjured shoulder and spun him around. Draco blanched as he found himself face to face with Headmistress McGonagall, who peered up at him through her glasses as though trying to ascertain if he'd received a head injury as well.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said primly, "it does not set a good example for your juniors when you show up to breakfast and proceed to bleed all over the eggs and bacon. Please _do_ see yourself up to the Infirmary before I am forced to take House Points off for your obvious recklessness. I shall alert Madam Pomphrey of your eminent arrival."

She silently summoned her silver cat Patronus, which disappeared silently through the wall.

"Yes, ma'am," Draco said woodenly. There was no way he was going to draw the ire of the headmistress just to satisfy a paranoid delusion.

After all, as he glanced around, he realized that Pete Burkins from Ravenclaw was also absent from his table. The thought of the portly, freckled fourth year student being bitten by his mental image of Vampire Snape nearly made him burst out laughing, but he quickly suppressed the urge, as the Headmistress was still giving him a rather concerned look as her eyes followed him on his way out of the Great Hall.

But as he made his way up the stairs, Draco's only thoughts were of those pale, thin arms wrapped around Hermione's bare back. His chest throbbed painfully not only at the horror of thinking that Snape was touching Hermione intimately in anything other than his vivid imagination, but also the utter despair that he would never be able to do it himself.

* * *

In the end, Madam Pomfrey made quick work of his injury, only becoming somewhat irritable when Draco refused to tell her how it had happened.

"Accident." he said, refusing to say anything further.

And so he was forced to listen to the Mediwitch grumble and gripe about "bloody students" and their "bloody tendency to knock each other's brains clean out" and "the absolute barminess of teenaged males and their bloody honor codes."

But all in all, it wasn't all that bad. After all, he'd heard far worse from his father before.

He was pronounced fit to leave the Infirmary just in time to get to Potions class, after which was Divination. The rest of the day passed by in a blur, and he even had to go back to speak with Professor Sprout about what he'd missed in Herbology, as he knew that asking any of his classmates would be met with cold stares and whispers. His chest throbbed painfully as Professor Slughorn and Professor Firenze both made excuses for the absent Gryffindor, certain that her absence was due to the unusual extra assignments she'd taken on lately. He wasn't surprised about it, though. She was a war hero. And though he knew Hermione would never do such a thing, she probably could get away with hexing a teacher without so much as serving detention. Normally, Hermione would share space with him in a cold yet professional manner, as he was inevitably set to work on his own, but her absence gnawed wretchedly at him, and he decided that he would brave the stairs to Gryffindor Tower and hand off her homework if he couldn't get her to come to the door herself. Part of him was convinced that maybe it was his fault that Hermione was absent. Perhaps she was so mortified that she'd gone on a date-like... _thing_...with Draco that she couldn't bear to look him in the face.

But no. It wouldn't be that...it just... _couldn't_. No. It had to be Snape. It _had_ to be the so-called "dungeon bat" who had done _something_ terrible yet again.

 _Or she could just have the stomach flu, you daft git._

The irony of the fact that the voice in Draco's head sounded eerily like the dour Potions master was not lost on him.

In fact, by the time supper had finished with no Snape in sight at the Head Table, Draco scarfed down his meal and practically sprinted from the Great Hall, his wand held down at his side as he decided that he would beat down the door of Snape's private quarters if he had to, just to confirm that he wasn't in there butchering Hermione for potions ingredients or something ghastly like that. He was aware that he wasn't thinking rationally, but all he had to do was think of how Hermione had smiled, how she'd stayed close to him at the concert, how her hair lit up under the fairy lights and her face shone with joy…

He could not let anyone hurt her, even if he were outclassed and outmaneuvered.

In his haste to leave the Great Hall and reach the dungeons before he had to start his evening patrols, Draco did not realize that, for the third meal of the day, Pansy Parkinson was not in her usual place at the Slytherin table.


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's Note:** I wanted to post this last night, but I had to do some traveling and then all day today was a family reunion event, so I've been trying to get the time to write/proofread everything in time to get it out before too much time elapses. I'm hoping to finish this story within the next 10 chapters (hopefully!), so things are about to start moving quickly! I hope that you are enjoying the story! Your comments and questions give me strength to keep working hard, so thank you all!

Just as a fun little poll, I'd love to know: who's your favorite character so far? I'm curious to know!

* * *

 **Chapter 31: The Woman Who Wouldn't Die**

All was utterly still throughout the disheveled mess of the Shrieking Shack as the sun dipped below the horizon. Perhaps it was due to the fact that it had been considered a place to avoid for many decades save for the odd tourist or simply the fact that it was on the outskirts of town, but the silence that surrounded the site suggested that no one had discovered the gaping hole where the front door had been or the splintered gashes in the wooden front porch that made it look as though some monstrous creature had burrowed its way out of the depths of Hell.

In reality, it wasn't that far from the truth.

The last light of day glinted off of something metallic that came to a point, which stuck perpendicularly out of the freshly turned earth, but it was only once the sky had gone as purplish blue as a fresh bruise that it moved slightly once, twice, until the earth broke apart almost explosively as a dirt-stained hand pushed out of the ground. The hand flung the short blade it was holding onto the ground nearby and then began to push at the earth until the ground caved in just enough to uncover the top part of Pansy Parkinson's torso.

"Ugh!" she shouted at the dagger, spitting out dirt and sneezing out of her nose. "You said I wasn't quite Changed yet, not until I take first blood, yet the sunlight burns my body. Why?"

A wispy form materialized next to the blade and Bellatrix Lestrange put her hands on her hips as she looked down at the girl in the dirt.

"How should I know?" she replied, rolling her eyes. "I never paid much attention to vampires in school. The Dark Lord required all of my attention, anyway. Besides, don't you have a sister you could ask?"

Pansy shuddered. The thought of her sister knowing what she'd been up to made her feel rather queasy, though it hadn't helped that she'd been forced to breathe damp stale air for an entire day after her body had burned so terribly in the sunlight. She knew that it wasn't the same as a true vampire's burn, as Hyacinth had been rather clear about what sort of flammable fate awaited newly Changed vampires who strayed out during the day. However, within moments of a sun's ray touching her, she'd turned an angry lobster red, and part of her face had begun to blister. She touched her fingers to the area once more, and luckily, it seemed to have healed, though being covered in dirt and grime didn't exactly do much for her. Pulling her wand from her sleeve, she tried to Scourgify herself as best she could, but she still had an undeniably grimy feeling once she'd finished.

"Remember, you aren't to kill the mudblood girl. We need her blood to give me a form." Bellatrix said insistently, her wide, crazy eyes focused on Pansy. "Already, I have saved you twice. Now you need to uphold your side of the deal or I shall be forced to use _you_ instead."

Pansy snorted. "I could have thought of burrowing in the ground like a gopher myself. And anyway, whose bright idea was it to blast holes in the walls to scare Snape out of hiding, again, you know, the same holes that let horribly painful rays of sunlight in after we'd gone through all the trouble to do it? Oh, right. It was YOUR idea."

Bellatrix stomped her foot soundlessly on the ground with an annoyed snort.

"It wouldn't have been a bad idea if I had known that he was capable of turning into a bloody bat! I thought that was just mudblood superstition. I never realized that was actually a vampire ability!"

Pansy gave the apparition a side-eyed glance. Learning and remembering information was apparently not Bellatrix Lestrange's strong point. Even though she was prone to scanning her books for information, she could still remember the part on vampires being able to transform, but ONLY those who were much older and had amassed more power as a result. But the thought of Snape being an ancient vampire was laughable. After all, thanks to a rather long article written by Rita Skeeter, it had become common knowledge that he'd been Potter's mother's childhood friend as a child and vampires did not age.

"Something funny is going on here, I just know it." Pansy muttered, more to herself than anything, but Bellatrix snorted again, as though what Pansy had said was the most humorous thing she'd ever heard.

"Come on, girl," Bellatrix said. "Go to your sister and get yourself some blood to provoke the Change. You took enough, I'm sure."

Pansy glared back. Thanks to the ghostly visage of the eldest Black sister, she'd already bitten off more than she could chew... _literally_.

"But I want Draco to be my first time!" she replied, aware that she sounded petulant and childish.

"It will be just as _special_ the second or third time, you know." Bellatrix sneered, making a rather rude gesture with her hands.

"Ugh! Screw you!" Pansy threw her hands up in the air and paced in the opposite direction of the knife.

"COME _**BACK**_ HERE!" Bellatrix thundered, and Pansy's feet seemed to shimmer momentarily.

Before she knew it, she'd turned and was standing in front of the knife again, her eyes narrowed into slits even as her heart hammered across her chest. Bellatrix had ordered her body to do something, and she'd... _done_ it.

Swallowing the lump that had materialized in her throat, Pansy tried to put a genial expression on her face.

"I suppose...I ought to go talk to my sister, then." Pansy said, sounding more sure of herself than she felt.

Bellatrix smiled, but her lips seemed to twist into a maniacal expression that made Pansy want to shudder.

"That's my girl," she said, placing a nearly transparent hand on Pansy's shoulder.

Pansy could no longer hold back the instinctive shudder of revulsion as she realized that she could feel Bellatrix's touch, but she chuckled awkwardly and pulled her arms around herself as though it was just the cool night air making her shiver.

"Aw, poor baby," Bellatrix's voice was a sarcastic singsong as Pansy picked up the dagger and placed it in its sheath. "I'm sure that your delightful sister will be happy to get you something nice and _hot_ to drink once we get there."

Pansy nodded but said nothing as she watched Bellatrix's form become indistinct and disappear altogether.

Though her pride had kept her from saying anything for far longer than she'd felt it was prudent, she knew that she could deny it no longer.

She needed _help_.

* * *

"Somehow, I knew it would be you," Hyacinth said, her eyes regarding her younger sister suspiciously as she motioned for the minotaur bouncer at the door to let Pansy past.

Pansy's head drooped even more than it had before and she spoke to the floor.

"Yeah. You were right, Hyacinth."

They walked down the hallway into the main nightclub, which was rather quiet, as it was a Monday night. Hyacinth placed her arm abruptly in front of Pansy's chest and Pansy nearly cried out in annoyance before her sister abruptly shushed her.

"Come this way instead," Hyacinth hissed, her voice nearly hysterical, as she led Pansy through a side door.

Pansy glanced nervously into the lounge part of the nightclub and noticed that Lars was talking with two men she'd never seen before. One was a tall, broad-chested man with rich, dark, reddish-brown skin dressed in fine clothing, the other was even taller than either Lars or the other mystery man, as well as thin and pale. He was, Pansy thought, nearly the spitting image of a stereotypical vampire.

"Why did you stop me?" Pansy said in a somewhat irritated voice, as soon as the door shut behind them with a soft click. "Who are those men? What's going on here?"

"Pansy!" Hyacinth whispered loudly, as though she was afraid of being heard. "You need to listen to me because I'm only going to say this once. I can _smell_ the blood on you. _Vampire_ blood."

Pansy opened her mouth to protest, and Hyacinth's eyes flashed as she held out her hand violently, silencing her sister.

" _No_! _Let me_ _finish_! You obviously only recently acquired the blood. And I happen to know _from personal experience_ that it is more than any sane vampire would give willingly during a single siring session. I can practically _see_ it roaring through your veins." Hyacinth's mouth was almost a feral snarl, her fangs slipping down past her top lip as though she were barely containing the urge to go for her sister's throat. "You may be family, Pansy, but becoming...like me...there are some bonds that are stronger than that. The bonds of blood are not taken lightly by our kind. Those who would force their way into becoming like us do not tend to come out better for it. My only question is why you haven't changed into a _Nachten_ _blutegel,_ as it is more than obvious that the only way for one to take so much blood would be if the vampire has a death wish or, as is more likely, it is taken _unwillingly_! _**Who was it**_ , Pansy? Was it...oh god...no...no no no no no…"

Pansy flinched, pressing against the door in terror as her sister advanced on him.

"Was. It. Severus Snape?" Hyacinth's voice was a low growl as she brought her terrifyingly feral face inches from Pansy's.

"I...and he was...but…." Pansy stammered, cowering lower and lower until she was sitting on the floor, her sister towering over her menacingly.

"WHERE?!" Hyacinth roared, her fingers outstretched like claws as they dug into Pansy's shoulders.

"He...he escaped…" Pansy mumbled, refusing to look her sister in the eye.

"I don't owe you this. In fact, I don't owe you anything. You owe _me_." Hyacinth's eyes were nearly red with fury. "But I will let you do two things before I never see your sorry self again. I will let you get yourself cleaned up. I will let you leave through the back door. And I urge you to avoid those two men at all costs."

"But...why?" Pansy was confused. "One of them is a vampire. So what?"

"You don't seem to understand the very real danger you are in." Hyacinth replied, her eyes going somewhat back to normal as she glared at her sister. "One of them, Erheldt, is a Viper. And, if rumor is to be believed, he is the First Viper, the oldest of them all. He has been at his job for a very, very long time and he is _very_ good at it."

"But what does that have to do with me?" Pansy asked, her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. "I mean, he survived. Flew off, actually. So we're fine. Everything's fine. He can give me detention or whatever, and we'll be squared up."

"No, Pansy. You _still_ don't understand." Hyacinth replied, her voice growing insistent as she obviously fought between anger and exasperation at her ignorant sibling. "If they have dispatched a Viper because of what you've done, you are dead. Anyone found harboring you is dead. And there's no way to get back from death, Pansy. Even YOU aren't stupid enough to think otherwise."

Pansy blanched, her body suddenly growing so freezing cold that her teeth began to chatter together as the weight of Hyacinth's words sunk in.

"Oh...no...surely...there's some way to stop him….some…?" Pansy trailed off, her eyes wide with terror.

"There is only one thing that you can do, Pansy. Run. Run as far and as fast as you can go by any means necessary before he catches wind of you." Hyacinth replied. "It's more than I should tell you, I know, but to be honest, I doubt you'll get far."

Her sister sounded so resigned, that Pansy nearly cried. But then, wretchedly, she felt the warming sensation of the knife against her thigh and she realized that there were indeed ways back from death.

Though Bellatrix was obviously insane and willing to suck out Pansy's lifeforce to revive herself if she couldn't produce Hermione to be used instead, it was a tiny sliver of hope that there was something, _anything_ that she could do to get through this utter muck-up of a plan with her life intact.

Though first, she'd have to avoid an ancient, powerful vampire whose specialty was killing.

"Ah..hah…" she breathed raggedly, muttering brokenly as her sister led her to the shower and then abruptly left without a word beyond a sympathetic glance back. "No...no problem…this is…"

The water was cold and she flinched under the watery onslaught as it slowly warmed up.

"F-fine." she chattered. "I'll be f-fine."

It was a shame that she didn't believe her hollow words.


	32. Chapter 32

**Author's Note** **: I'm sorry I've been lagging a bit on my updates. A horrible tragedy just occurred in my local community and everyone is devastated. I've been hugging my husband and my kids a lot and feeling sad and awful for the last couple of days. As you can imagine, this makes writing rather challenging. I really appreciate your patience, though! Thank you for all of your support and comments!**

* * *

 **Chapter 32: Blood is Thicker**

The knock at the door was soft, but both Hermione and Severus froze mid-kiss, their bodies growing tense as though expecting a blow. It was obvious that the war had left scars upon their psyches that, while invisible, were no less deep than the dark lines of scar tissue on their respective bodies.

They stared in the direction of the door that led through the front room and his offices to his private chambers, the unanswered question hovering between them both.

 _Who_ would have the audacity to knock at the feared Potion's master's door?

"Professor!" came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. "I know you're in there! I need to...er...speak with you! Matters pertaining to Head Boy duties and all that!"

Severus pulled back from Hermione reluctantly and sat on his knees putting his hand over his eyes and sweeping it back over his hair so that it pulled away from his face with an exasperated groan.

"Of _course_ it would be a Malfoy come to spoil my tiny respite," Severus grumbled a bit theatrically.

Hermione smirked.

"I wouldn't exactly call the last couple days a _tiny_ respite." she said, her voice a bit smug as she pulled the sheets up to her chin and lay back against the remaining pillow that hadn't been kicked to the floor in a fit of passion.

"You should be glad that vampires are sterile, Hermione," Severus purred, leaning in to kiss her on the nose. "The way we've gone at it these past couple of days, by now you'd be carrying a _litter_ of tiny, foul-tempered future Potions masters."

Hermione went beet red at this implication, glancing down at her belly and back at his arched eyebrow with an expression that was both embarrassed and full of obvious desire.

 _I already told you I wouldn't mind, you know._

Her thoughts slid into his head like a breathless whisper and he shivered deliciously before prying himself from the bed and grabbing his wand, using it to dress himself almost instantly.

He felt a surge of protectiveness as he dressed, which conflicted with his desire to burrow under the covers and ignore Draco Malfoy and his silly demands. Still, if anything ever got back to Lucius...he shuddered to think of what might happen, how Hermione would be thrown to the wolves as Lucius opened his big, fat mouth about it to some hack like Rita Skeeter.

He could not let that happen.

Hermione was his mated partner, and as silly as it sounded in his head, he truly considered her his soulmate. Which was ridiculous because he didn't believe in such things.

And yet…

 _If magic is real, if vampires are real, if Trelawney is actually capable of dispensing real prophecies…_

Hermione snorted and he gave her a lopsided smirk. She'd obviously heard his thoughts and had a similarly disparaging opinion on the Divination professor.

 _Don't make a sound._

He sent the words mentally and mouthed them as he turned back to look at her and closed the door to his bedroom area.

Hermione nodded and he shut the door quietly, warding it shut with his own wand, just in case the youngest Malfoy was stupid enough to try and barge into places that he didn't belong.

With a deep, irritated sigh, Severus pulled open the door abruptly as the knocking began again in earnest and had to suppress a snort of laughter at the surprised squeak that Draco let out before he could compose himself.

"Don't you have anything better to do than play a drum solo on my door?" Severus drawled, looking down his nose at the Slytherin Head Boy.

Draco wrung his hands together nervously.

"Sir, you were not in class today and I.." he stammered, his voice dying in his throat at the fierce look on Snape's pinched face.

"Ah. I see. I was not in class. So you came to tell me of my absence on the off-chance that I hadn't noticed where my corporeal being was located today?" His voice oozed the perfect mixture of disdain and sarcasm, a tone that had served him well over the year when dealing with dunderheaded students. "Unlike Professor Binns, I can assure you that I do not suffer from a mind/body disconnect. If that is all, then you had better begin your rounds and assist any straggling Slytherins back to the common room before it gets too late and Professor McGonagall gives you detention for being out past a reasonable hour on a school night."

He began to close the door, but Draco had shoved his foot to block it from closing before he could get it fully shut.

"Professor!" Draco's voice was thick with the pain he'd brought upon himself, but other than a tightly balled fist and noticeably watery eyes, he made no other protest.

"What. Is. It?" Severus growled, his voice growing irritated at Draco's insistence on disregarding his instructions.

There had been a time where the blond boy would do anything his Head of House requested of him. Though Draco had been annoyingly full of himself, Severus was beginning to miss how it had at least been easier to get him to respect his authority without question.

"I...I was just wondering if you know of the nightclub in Hogsmeade?" Draco said, obviously biting the inside of his cheek to cope with the pain in his foot.

"I do not see the point of answering that question, as it is obviously inappropriate." Severus replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the door a bit.

"Ah. Ow!" Draco grunted. "Well, then. I just want you to know that I went to a concert with Granger on Friday and I haven't seen her since. I know you don't care at all about some stupid Gryffindor, but I'm concerned about her, even though I have no evidence that she's in trouble."

Severus sneered back until Draco flinched noticeably.

"I happen to know that Miss Granger is rather capable of keeping not only herself but two additional bumbling fools alive even when she is being targeted by an army of Dark wizards. I highly doubt that she had any issues getting back to her room safely from a mere concert." Severus nearly had to bite his lip to restrain his fangs from extending instinctively in a predatory display of protectiveness. "How interesting that you refuse to treat said stupid Gryffindor like a fellow equal human being until your family lost all of its wealth and status while she has gained fame and wealth from having sacrificed nearly everything alongside her obnoxious little friend. Isn't that just like a Malfoy to change his tune the moment the wind changes direction. I wonder, at what point will she no longer be enough for your quest to regain your status enough to show your face in all of the eminent circles in Wizarding society? What then? Will you discard her as easily as you did Miss Parkinson? As I recall, you seemed perfectly willing to keep her on your arm until she no longer fit your needs."

"That's not-!" Draco started, his face going pink with irritation.

"What, _true_?" Severus replied angrily. "I may not be particularly interested in the love lives of my students, but I have watched you lead Miss Parkinson on for _years_. And then, in the space of less than a day, you have now found yourself _true love_? Oh please, do not disgrace the term by describing your pathetic feelings in such a manner."

"You take that back!" Draco raged, pointing a finger up at the Potions master's hooked nose. "Just because we were together doesn't mean we were well matched. Pansy and I fought all the time! I got tired of her jealousy and possessiveness. And I've _always_ had a thing for Granger! I just...I couldn't because of my father and our family's stupid obsession with blood purity! But things have changed! _I_ have changed! Sure, I can be a bit of a git sometimes, but I'm trying! Surely _you_ of all people can understand that!"

"Read Skeeter's deplorable book about me, have you?" Severus replied flatly. "You know _nothing_."

Draco's eyes narrowed at this and he got a strange look on his face as though staring at something far away. Severus fixed him with a disdainful look and Draco found himself forced to break eye contact moment later, panting angrily as his attempt to penetrate his Head of House's mind failed miserably.

"I have told you more than once that your Occlumency...leaves much to be desired." Severus said, unimpressed. "While you were trying to read my thoughts, you left yourself wide open to being read yourself! I will be the first to tell you that you're being simply ridiculous. There is no reason for me to be hiding the Granger girl in my chambers or anywhere else! Besides, you are one to talk about perverted behavior regarding that bushy-haired menace! If Granger only knew what you were up to in the bushes while she runs around the lake each day, she'd hex your bits off and even _I_ would think that she was well within her rights to do it!"

Draco flinched as he realized that Snape had indeed seen his shameful foray into voyeurism.

Severus had to pretend to cough to hide his fangs, which were slipping down past his upper lip as his instincts screamed at him to dispose of this threat to his mated partner, even as his logical mind pressed back, reminding him that Hermione was safe. She had her wand. She was also tucked behind a number of his formidable wards. She was probably lying there at that very moment, waiting for him to return to her. His body ached to do so.

 _And I would, if not for damn meddling Malfoys._

He could hear Hermione's voice snort loudly in his mind and he nearly smiled himself before catching the expression and forcing his lips into a firm line.

"But Sir, I-!"

"You have two seconds to get your foot out of the way before I slam it shut and take off your toes!" Severus exclaimed angrily, channeling his aggressive urge to protect Hermione into his words.

Draco pulled his foot out of the door just in time. The door slammed shut, the impact echoing off of the stone walls as he stood there with a wide-eyed expression of disbelief on his face. Slicking his disheveled hair back with one hand, Draco turned and began walking unsteadily back to the Slytherin Common Room.

It had been a hell of a day, and now, the very last person he ever wanted to know his most embarrassing secret (save, perhaps, Hermione herself), knew everything. Draco sorely wished to crawl into bed headfirst and never come out again. And while he knew that he had a patrol to do, he sorely wanted to play hooky instead.

His thoughts were so tumultuous that he did not notice the dark figure advancing upon him, and when he did, it was mere seconds before he was hit with a red light and fell to rigidly to the floor.

Crimson sleeves were rolled up slowly, revealing milky white skin as strong, tattooed arms easily pulled Draco's Stunned body around the corner and into a hidden alcove. Moments later, a letter flew out of the space and drifted lazily down the hall, the back of it stained with the bloody impression of a fingerprint. It slid under the door to Snape's chambers and came to rest against the stone floor.

By the time a second knock came at the door several hours later, the letter still lay where it had landed and Draco Malfoy had vanished without a trace.


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's Note** : As I mentioned before, these next couple of chapters are going to be packed with plot, so I'm working hard to make sure that I combat any inconsistencies. Please bear with me! I hope to keep to a regular updating schedule as I finish this bloodsucking labor of love, lol!

* * *

 **Chapter 33: Hard Words, Harder Truths**

"I'm sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, Severus," Horace Slughorn was saying, his moustache jiggling unpleasantly under his nose like a rather fuzzy worm, "but they insisted upon seeing you. Matter of life and death, you see."

Severus did not hear one word of the blithering old fool's statement. His dark eyes were focused on the two vampires standing behind the walrus-like wizard.

Something painful twisted in his gut. He'd not expected them so _soon_. Something did not feel right, but he could not figure out what it was.

"I shall take it from here, Horace." Severus said evenly, a neutral expression settling on his face as he shoved his tumultuous thoughts behind a mental blockade using occlumency.

 _They are here, Hermione. If they come for you as well, you will need to escape the way we came in._

Hermione's mind cried out in anguish and she began to protest before he closed his mind tightly. Any Viper worth his salt would know mind tricks aplenty and Severus did not want to give them anything more than was necessary.

" _Obliviate_." Sanguini said softly, pointing his wand at the back of Slughorn's head. "Sorry, old friend, but it is best that you do not know that we were here."

Horace waddled off down the corridor looking confused and Severus pulled the door open wide enough to allow the two men to enter. He knew Sanguini, of course, but the tall, burly vampire in the impeccable suit was unknown to him.

"Welcome, Sanguini and... _friend_." Severus said, folding his left hand over his chest and bowing at the waist in the traditional vampire greeting. He turned to the unknown vampire in his finely tailored suit and spoke as deferentially as he could. He could feel waves of power flaring from the vampire's body like flames. "Forgive me for being unable to address you by name, but I do not find myself in the company of my own kind... _often_."

The other vampires mirrored the greeting, though their bows were shallower due to their age. Severus noticed how Sanguini bowed more deeply than the other vampire, whose bow was a mere slight bend in his back. The significance of the tiny golden lapel pin on the dark coat under the man's impeccably trimmed chinstrap beard, which depicted a striking serpent, was not lost on Severus.

 _Definitely a Viper. And ancient, too. Shit._

"Severus Snape, blood of my bloodline, may I introduce my dear friend Erheldt Schmertz." Sanguini said evenly, introducing the two, who bowed to one another once more.

"It is an honor to meet you." Severus said respectfully, trying not to let on that he felt the opposite.

"As it is my own." Erheldt rumbled, his voice resonating through the room with a power that Severus instantly envied. If only _he_ had that sort of commanding voice, even Dumbledore would have had trouble ordering him about.

Of course, it was a moot point now that the old fool had been dead and buried for several years.

"We have come to discuss a matter of grave importance." Erheldt said with a polite smile that showed no fang. "Sanguini has been...most adamant that I learn of the facts before striking."

Severus nodded. He had already expected to die many times during the two Wizarding wars when he'd fought and spied, yet somehow, he'd always pulled through in the end. He knew that if a Deathstrike was ordered, there was no chance for his ending to be a happy one. The only thing he could hope for would be a swift end.

"You will spare her, though. She is an innocent in all of this." His eyes flashed as he said it, though his voice remained even.

It was clear that it was not a request.

"Let us sit and talk awhile, yes?" Erheldt said magnanimously. "There is no need for anyone to come to harm until I understand the circumstances of the situation."

Severus turned his back to them both and silently transfigured a cord of wood next to the fireplace into a third leather wingback chair, his eyes untrusting as he thought of all possible outcomes.

None were good.

Taking a seat on the furthest chair from the other two, he balanced stiffly on the edge of it, folding his fingers together to keep from wringing them nervously.

The other two sat and for a moment, said nothing.

"You are, I think, aware of the reason I am here, no?" Erheldt asked slowly, leaning forward and locking his eyes on the vampire across from him.

"What I would rather know is why _you_ think that you are here." Severus replied, his voice a monotone. "After all, it just so happens that I have had more than my fair share of run-ins with messengers who misunderstood their instructions with disastrous results."

"Now, Severus, I've already told Erheldt that there is no way that you could have sired a second in less than two days!" Sanguini exclaimed.

"I think that your youngling has an excellent idea. So young and yet so intelligent already. You are right, Sanguini. Far too barbaric to end him without a conversation at least."

Erheldt pulled an envelope from his breast pocket, pulled out the folded parchment inside and began to read.

"On the second night after the waxing moon, the Bloodtrace registered a Siring for youngling Severus Snape in the greater Hogsmeade area. One night later, a second Siring was recorded as well. As this is against our most ancient laws, a Deathstrike is hereby activated.

Signed on this night, the second of April,

Sanguis Council Head

Garbor Gryphus."

"It seems rather straightforward and clear." Severus replied, nodding slightly. "So I must ask...why would either of you wish to speak to me first? Is there some exception to the Siring law of which I am unaware?"

"I do not believe that you Sired willingly the second time." Sanguini said softly, the echoes of old guilt in his eyes.

"Does it matter?" Severus replied sharply. "Surely the Blood Trace would register such an exception!"

"The popular belief is that we are ridding the world of problems. That those who are truly innocent are in the very rare minority." Erheldt replied sadly. "Even I do not often question a command from the Council."

"What, then, would prove to you that I did not give my blood willingly the second time?" Severus said, his voice full of the tiniest spark of hope.

"Bring her in here." Sanguini said. "If I am right, there is no reason why you would ever wish to take another."

Severus jerked back, his expression suspicious.

"Both of you must swear that no harm will come to her!" he hissed, baring his fangs protectively.

"Tsk, tsk," Erheldt replied with an amused expression. "I swear upon my bloodline that no harm shall come to her of my own design. I shall not, however, swear that no harm shall _ever_ come to her. The world is a dangerous and cruel place, Severus. You should know this better than most."

Severus nodded curtly.

"I shall speak with her. If she agrees, I shall bring her back into this room." he replied with a pinched expression.

He stood and turned towards the door to his personal chambers. It was then that he saw the envelope sitting on the stone floor a few steps away. He picked it up and stuffed it in his pocket, his mind more focused on what he would tell Hermione than the fact that his name was written across the front of the envelope.

After all, it _was_ his office. _Every_ letter that arrived was addressed to him.

"Five minutes, Severus." Erheldt's voice was mild, but there was a menacing undertone to it.

"And what should I assume you mean by that?" Severus asked, irritation edging into his voice.

"It is quite simple. Make your decision and return within five minutes. For if you do not, I fear that our quite pleasant chat will need to come to an early and _permanent_ end. You are obviously a most educated and intelligent man. Is my meaning clear?"

"Crystal." Severus growled, turning abruptly and heading towards the door more quickly than before.

He unwarded the door so quickly that his wand was a blur, slamming the door behind himself with a crash.

"I do so enjoy the intelligent ones." Erheldt said to Sanguini, grinning widely enough to show his fangs as he sat back confidently in his chair. "They make my job easier because I do not need to resort to overt threats. And the chasing and the blood everywhere! Bah! There's nothing worse than having to get a new wardrobe when I've just gotten used to the one I own, don't you think?"

Sanguini merely nodded, grinning submissively with a flash of fang and offering his neck to Erheldt, who leaned towards the taller vampire and purred softly in a predatory manner.

"Did I ever mention how much I enjoy mixing business with... _pleasure_?" Erheldt whispered against Sanguini's ivory neck, his hot breath prompting Sanguini to moan softly before his fangs slipped through the sensitive skin there.

It was five minutes and twenty-seven seconds later when Severus hurriedly emerged from his bedroom with Hermione behind him. To their utter surprise (and irritation), they discovered that neither of their guests were in any state to take issue with it.

"Is this some kind of vampire custom I simply don't know about?" Hermione whispered.

"No, Hermione." Severus replied with a sneer directed towards the two vampires by the fireplace. "I think that you will find that being an utterly thoughtless git is not merely reserved for human beings. _Unfortunately_."

Erheldt drew back from Sanguini, who was flushed, his fangs fully extended and his pupils blown wide as he sank back into his chair with an almost boneless sigh.

"Ah! You are here! Very good, very good." he said, gesturing towards the empty chair. "Let's begin, then, shall we?"

"Yes, _let's_." Hermione replied fiercely, raising her wand threateningly as she bared her fangs. "Because if you insist on doing what I think you're here to do, you can consider my wand your enemy! You will kill him over my dead body, do you hear me!?"

" _Interesting_." Erheldt said softly, smirking with satisfaction as he watched Severus turn to scold Hermione and tell her that she would do _no such thing_ , that he wanted her to _live_ , goddamnit. Glancing over at Sangini, he felt drawn to place his hand over Sanguni's and wondered at the hitching leap of his seldom beating heart. "Very interesting, _indeed_."


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34: Proof**

"Hermione, _please_ , lower your wand." Severus said exasperatedly. "If they meant to kill me, I would already be dead."

Hermione's hair seemed to grow larger for a moment as a crackling blue static descended from the top of her head down to the tips of her bushy curls. Her eyes still flashed but instead of continuing to shout an impressive number of expletives that would have given Minerva McGonagall a run for her money, she took a couple of deep breaths and simply glowered silently at the two vampires by the fireplace.

Severus sat in the chair across from the other two again and raised his wand to transfigure a fourth chair when Hermione's gentle hand upon his arm stopped him from doing so.

"Thanks, but I prefer to stand." she said, leaning her hip against the armrest and crossing her arms as she continued to glare at Erheldt. Severus had briefed her on the two vampires and their names while she was dressing, but she'd immediately known which was which.

Hermione knew better than to let Severus use unnecessary magic. She could feel waves of power emanating from Erheldt's body. If things went badly, they'd need every shred of their combined power simply to escape. Hermione knew that Severus wasn't stupid. He was simply more pragmatic than she was. He would rather have her survive and sacrifice himself than lose her as well. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't willing to accept his selflessness. Owing either to her innate nature or her years in Gryffindor, Hermione Granger was not one to leave anyone behind, regardless of the alternatives. It was not only her greatest strength but her greatest weakness, as she would overtly disadvantage herself if it meant helping save another.

"Sanguini has told me many things about the effects of your siring shockwave. Apparently, you sent the Underground in London into quite the _tizzy_." Erheldt arched his eyebrow wickedly, his smile leaving little to the imagination. He turned to Sanguini, whose eyes were still somewhat far away as he blinked rapidly. "What is it that you called it, again?"

Sanguni gulped and cleared his throat. "It is a phenomenon that is referred to as _Animavinculum_."

Severus frowned. "I have read much about vampire custom and morphology, but I have never heard that... _particular_ term before. Why is it that you have never mentioned it to me?"

Sanguini took a deep breath and smiled weakly. "I have done you a great disservice, Severus. When you were first Changed, I should have taken you, taught you all you needed to know, but Dumbledore was too strong and his influence far too vast. He was using his Contacts in the Ministry to give our kind unprecedented rights and opportunities. He never stated it overtly, but I knew that he did not wish for the incident concerning you to come to light, lest the Dark Lord use it against him. And so, it was covered up. You were given books, certainly, and special classes. I was able to tutor you somewhat, but there were still many limitations. Even so, I do not believe that the word would have come up in casual conversation. Nor would it ever appear in any book that I know of within this country."

"And why is _that_?" Hermione asked, her expression betraying her interest as she imagined what might be in a book that was so obviously so difficult to obtain.

"Well, if you must know, you would have to visit the Subterranean Library of Alexandria." Sanguini replied mildly, as though this were a simple process instead of the exact opposite. "They are very strict about allowing visitors. They have several Sphynx on the staff who devour those who do not follow the rules. Rather barbaric, if you ask me, but then again, I should not be one to talk considering my regular dietary needs."

"Why would you have gone through so much trouble, then? If it truly is as ancient and rare as you say, there seems little benefit to having to brave meddlesome, riddle-spewing harridans with lion's bodies just to learn a little-known fact." Severus replied suspiciously, crossing his arms out of habit. "Or is there some sort of vampire game show that I am currently unaware of?"

He glanced at Hermione and she could feel his mind whispering wryly to hers.

 _I'll have you know that Dumbledore forced me to feed the damned sphinx during the Triwizard Tournament. It was not a pleasant experience, Hermione._

Hermione snorted quietly as the two vampires looked back with confused expressions, which, of course, made Severus hide a snort of his own behind an artificially loud cough.

"I'm not one for games, myself." Erheldt said mildly, shrugging as Sanguini glanced at him.

"Well, in any case…" Sanguini continued, still looking a little puzzled. "To put it simply, there is a way to test to see if an _Animavinculum_ bond has occurred. Normally, the first sign is a truly anomalous surge of Siring energy, which technically does tend to occur in other uncommon situations, such as a Great Ancient siring, which confers abnormally high amounts of power to the Changed subject, but there are few well-known Great Ancients who have survived, much less have any interest in creating bloodlines of their own in the conventional way."

"Even I might be considered young next to a Great Ancient and I am one of very few." Erheldt purred, his fingertips sliding down the long, black, silky strands of hair that had fallen into Sanguini's face as he spoke and tucking them behind the pale vampire's ear. "It is indeed _exceedingly_ rare."

Sanguini's eyes began to go unfocused for a moment before he cleared his throat and did his best to compose himself.

"Er...so...anyway…" he finally managed. "The only way for two Bonded individuals to confirm that they have indeed become one another's _Animavinculum_ is fairly simple, but...er...it may be a little embarrassing for you both."

"And what is that supposed to mean?!" Hermione snapped, her hair going staticky again.

"Well, it's a bit intimate, to be honest." Sanguini said, looking a little flustered.

"Intimate... _how_?" Severus said quietly, and Hermione could see how rigid with tension his shoulders had become, though he kept his body eerily still.

"Oh, I assure you, it's nothing too racy!" Sanguini said hurriedly, shaking his hands back and forth quickly to dismiss any untoward notions. "It's just...it can be hard to get in the proper mindset...and…"

"But of course, we will have to confirm your status." Erheldt said, his smile somewhat more predatory than genial as he locked eyes with Severus. "I am certain that you will agree that it is in your best interest to cooperate, yes?"

Severus turned his head slightly, but it was enough to meet the intensity of Hermione's gaze as she sent her thoughts to him.

 _I would do anything, even in front of them, if it meant saving you, Severus._

His eyes widened slightly as his mind caressed hers once more.

 _But...how can you send your thoughts to me while my shields are fully clamped down?_

She looked at him and arched one eyebrow.

 _You're one to talk. That's three times you've broadcasted your thoughts to me!_

His eyebrow arched as well, nearly mirroring her expression.

 _Yes, but it's supposed to be a one-way street! I can send things, of course, but no one is supposed to be able to get through my defenses!_

Hermione shrugged.

 _Well, maybe I'm the one exception._

"Severus? Is there something wrong with your face?" Sanguini was looking rather confused again.

Hermione and Severus entwined their fingers together so quickly that both wore an expression of slight surprise on their faces as though their hands had done it without any conscious thought.

"I think that we have our answer." Severus said evenly as Hermione nodded curtly, her eyes full of fire.

"Now, then." Sanguini said. "You will need to be facing one another, so perhaps a second chair is in order?"

"I have a better idea." Hermione said, smirking somewhat mischievously as she rounded the chair and climbed on top of Severus in one smooth movement, tucking her legs around his back and grasping the front of his dark robes to hold herself in place. She smirked as she noticed the slight color rising on his cheeks at the feeling of her warmth against his body. "Now, then, what's the next step?"

"That...is rather unorthodox, but it will work." Sanguini said after a bit of an awkward pause. "Now, you both need to loosen your robes until the upper chest is exposed- the skin over the heart, that is."

Hermione bit her lip slightly, her eyes asking for permission from Severus to unbutton the neck of his robes. He nodded slightly and she began to slowly unfasten them, taking care to also unfasten the white buttons in the white dress shirt underneath. When she was finished, she moved slightly to the side with a grin to show the pale skin of his chest. Of course, it was moments later when Severus began to loosen Hermione's buttons in a similar manner, prompting her to go scarlet as the firm pressure of his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of her breasts. At last, he'd unbuttoned enough to show the correct place as well as a rather generous amount of cleavage.

"There." Severus said, his voice bored though his eyes were intently focused on Hermione. "The dark deed you have requested is done. Now, give me the next instructions before I give into the temptation to continue on as though the two of you are not actually in this room."

Hermione blushed an even deeper scarlet at this, though she knew that it was just his way of trying to get a rise out of the other two vampires. She dearly tried to ignore the part of her mind that was becoming increasingly turned on at the thought of being watched while Severus did delightfully naughty things with her.

Sanguini nodded with approval, though he too seemed a bit embarrassed.

"Now, you need to kiss." he said with a weary grin.

"That's _it_?" Hermione said, her voice going a bit shrill. "You got us all worked up for a _kiss_?"

"Well...it's not just a simple kiss." Sanguini said, his eyes going a bit dreamy as he seemed to remember something. "You must both look into each other's eyes, no blinking allowed. And the kiss must last at least a minute, longer if you want to get a clearer result. And, if you truly are _Animavinculum,_ things might get...er...a bit heated in here _."_

"You _would_ like that, wouldn't you, Erheldt?" Severus said defiantly, but he was staring into Hermione's eyes while he said it, his voice somewhat breathless as his heart beat abnormally fast for even a human against Hermione's chest.

Hermione bit at her lower lip just a little, wondering if it was ok to begin, and that seemed to be far too much for Severus to bear. Pulling his arms around her, he pressed his lips against hers, his dark eyes never leaving her gaze for a moment. She kissed him back, her body aching to feel the hot, yielding weight of his lips against hers forever. When he tasted her for the first time, she nearly closed her eyes as she moaned with the pleasure of his tongue against hers, but she forced her eyes open as the heat and light filled her until she felt she might burst.

It was then that she realized, as though watching it from far away, that the light wasn't just in her head. Something was glowing against their chests, linking them together with a golden chain of light.

She thought she heard a gasp of awe from one of the two vampires, but she honestly didn't care which one it was. All that she could see was Severus, his dark eyes watching her back, drinking her in as their mouths moved together and their bodies began to move as though of their own accord. She pressed and rubbed against him, knowing that he would appreciate the friction just as much as she did.

The light grew brighter and brighter until Hermione realized that Severus had begun to glow as he had before, his skin growing translucent so that she could almost see through him. She, too, had become a being made of veins of light, and it filled her with a sense of power that grew with each moment they were connected. It hummed and buzzed in her veins and she moaned sharply into his mouth, her fangs aching to extend, to sink into his shoulder and feed.

When their lips finally broke the kiss, it was to immediately sink their fangs into the other's neck, and they both fed deeply, greedily as their bodies continued to press against one another.

"It is _true_ , then." Sanguini breathed, his eyes wide with shock. "I almost didn't believe myself when I said it until...this…"

Erheldt nuzzled against Sanguini's neck, his eyes full of lust.

"Ah, well, I suppose it can't be helped. You did say that it would have an... _effect_ on us as well. So...then...would you be too averse to resuming our diversion?"

Both Sanguini and Erheldt turned back to look at the glow that surrounded Hermione and Severus, their eyes widening with surprise as Severus suddenly _stood up_. Hermione held tightly to him with her arms thrown around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist as they continued to feed on one another. Though his eyes remained closed as he fed from his beloved, Severus walked easily through the room with Hermione attached to the front of him and disappeared through the door to his chambers without another word, slamming the door behind him with a crash.

* * *

"Do you think we will need to worry about them escaping?" Sanguini asked nervously, his pupils widening as Erheldt began to run his fingers against the soft skin around his pale neck.

"Oh, I think that they will be _physically_ _incapable_ of escaping for the time being, _ma doux-sang_." Erheldt whispered, his fangs grazing against Sanguini's throat. "And we have you to thank for it."

"You always were gifted in the art of persuasion, Erh-ahh!" Sanguini gasped as fangs slipped through skin and he sprawled bonelessly against the back of the chair, basking in the pleasure of it.

But as Sanguini experienced the bliss of yet another of Erheldt's many techniques, his mind kept flashing back to the golden runes that had linked Severus and Hermione together. Even as he called out the name of his lover in orgasmic bliss, he still could not deny the dull ache in his heart as he remembered that he would never see that rune upon his own chest again.


	35. Chapter 35

Author's Note: I've been in a bit of a funk the past couple of days. I have fallen prey to the horrible inner voice telling me that I'm wasting my time and being stupid for thinking that I can write all. While I know that many of you have faithfully followed this story and want to know what happens next, it still doesn't make it any easier to fight it. Boo...I need Pansy to suffer some more to get my brain out of fail mode.

* * *

 **Chapter 35: To Catch A Monster, One Must Be A Monster**

For once, Pansy knew that she was being an idiot. After her sister's dire warning, going back to Hogwarts was beyond stupid. But she just couldn't leave behind all of her comfortable, designer casual robes, much less her favorite pillow. Sure, being on the run from a bunch of ancient murderous vampires with a contract on her life wouldn't be fun, but she'd honestly rather be dead than have to sleep without her favorite extra-fluffy pillow, which was stuffed full of griffin down. It has been expensive, but she'd whined and whined until her parents finally relented.

They would have to pry it from her cold, dead hands.

Besides, stealing some food from the kitchens and raiding some medical supplies from the cabinet next to the infirmary would go a long way towards making her exile more manageable.

And, chances were that they would go after Snape first, who would surely give them trouble. He was an ex-Death Eater, after all, and not very friendly even on a good day.

It was still an incredibly stupid idea.

Pansy managed to avoid any teachers on her way to the Slytherin Common Room, but she did end up nearly being seen by Gregory Goyle and Daphne Greengrass, who were sitting far too close to one another on one of the velvet couches near the side of the room for it to be platonic. Pansy curled her lip with disgust. Her world was turning upside down. Goyle finally getting a date simply confirmed that fact.

Still, she bit her tongue and snuck past silently past the cuddling couple, being sure to grumble in her head instead of make her presence known.

Natalie Weidelich, a Sixth year Slytherin student, was the only one in the girl's shared dorm room, but she was pointedly ignoring Pansy as she sat at her desk and wrote an essay.

 _Humph! Two can play at that game!_

 _ **You should take her blood, then.**_

The sound of Bellatrix's voice whispering in her mind made Pansy shudder with revulsion.

"I can't do that!" She hissed under her breath.

 _ **Why not? That stupid little half-blood has shunned you all year. Don't you want your revenge? There are no witnesses, after all.**_

Pansy could feel sharp points extending from the top of her jaw until they grazed the inside of her lower lip. With a horrified squeak, she clapped her hands over her mouth and sped into the tiny dorm bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her.

Bending over the sink with her hands grasping the tile until her knuckles went white, Pansy looked into the mirror as Bellatrix stared back, her mouth drawn up in a crazed half-smile.

"Aww, don't you like the new look?" Bellatrix cooed crazily, her voice coming out of Pansy's mouth. Pansy had to run her fingers through her straight black hair to confirm that she hadn't physically changed somehow.

Pansy didn't want to admit it, but her body ached to do as Bellatrix had suggested earlier. It was a lot like the feeling she got an hour into her last class of the day after skipping lunch. For awhile, not eating anything was just fine.

Until it wasn't.

"I won't be able to reverse the horrible thing you became earlier if you don't feed soon." Bellatrix said in a singsong voice.

"You're just trying to scare me!" Pansy retorted defiantly.

Bellatrix tutted, her grin widening with amusement.

"Don't believe me? Just look at your face!" She chortled, her reflection fading.

Pansy stared back at herself with horror. She was fuzzy around the edges, but as her Change was not complete, she could see where her reflection's skin bowed and cracked like mud in the desert, thin angry red lines crisscrossing her face as though about to split at the seams.

Pansy shrieked and pressed her hands against her face, her fingers touching smooth, whole skin.

"You...b...bitch!" She sputtered, her cheeks turning scarlet with anger and embarrassment.

"That the best you can do?" Ghostly fingers were slipping through her hair and she flinched to the side, nearly falling over. "I don't know what's worse, the fact that you're obviously coming unhinged or that you seem to have trouble with the simplest of tasks."

"Yeah? Well, which one of us got herself killed by a Weasley?" Pansy retorted. " _Honestly_! If you can't even hold your own against a blood-traitor housewife, I can't imagine any reason why your former master would want anything to do with you! I mean, is that it? Did he send you back because he couldn't stand having you around in the afterlife?"

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!" Bellatrix roared, her finger pointed at Pansy like a wand. "I never asked to be here! I watched my body fall and I could do nothing to return to my Lord's side! I wanted to join him when I saw him die, but instead, I was trapped! Being this way is worse than death. That is why I need Granger's blood. My blade knows it from before. Once my dagger absorbs her blood, I will be reborn! I can just _feel_ it's what I need to do. So, my _sweet_ , if you're hoping to run away like a craven coward, that is your choice. But you _will_ find Granger and you _will_ draw her blood until I am free of my prison or you _will_ wish that the Viper had given you a quick death!"

Pansy's legs quivered so violently that she felt as though she might collapse. Her mind raced as she considered her options. She couldn't throw the blade away no matter how much she wished she could do it. They were connected too closely, now.

So, instead, she gathered a pile of toiletries into her arms and stormed back into the main room, throwing everything in her trunk.

When Natalie turned and opened her mouth, presumably to ask her what the hell she was doing, Pansy hit her with a _Full Body Bind_ and went back to packing, throwing her pillow on top and pressing her full weight on the top to get it closed so she could latch it. She tapped it and shrunk it to pocket size, then placed it in the inner pocket of her robes, rushing out of the room before she started taking orders from her growling stomach.

Much to her relief, Goyle and Greengrass were nowhere to be seen when she returned to the common room, so she simply stormed through without a word. It seemed that everyone was off at dinner. Even so, she hoped that she was the only one who could hear Bellatrix cackling ominously behind her.

She stopped short as she reached a bend in the hallway that would take her by Snape's offices and lead up to the stairs and out to the front of the castle. It wouldn't do to get caught by the very professor that she'd nearly drained of blood less than a day before. Pansy wasn't sure how a much-strengthened-though-still-incorporeal Bellatrix would react to seeing Snape alive and well after everything came out about him having betrayed Voldemort.

Pansy wasn't going to tell her insane companion that she had no plans to find Hermione and stab her. Not only was Hermione probably with Snape, who would be none too happy at being nearly killed, Pansy wasn't sure that she could take the bushy-haired harridan, even if she was alone. Even the worst Slytherin students weren't stupid enough to hex her in the halls.

No, it was simpler to just get as far away as possible and then deal with the fallout when it happened.

At least, that was the plan until she heard Draco bidding someone goodbye, the sound of a door closing and footsteps coming her way.

Panicking, Pansy threw a Disillusionment charm over herself, grumbling when the toe of her left shoe remained visible. She tucked it behind her other foot and hoped that the low light would protect her from being discovered.

But then she heard the sound of a spell making impact and a thump on the floor. Forgetting about her foot, she rushed around the corner only to see Draco being pulled into a hidden, secret passage that she often used to get to Charms when she was late in the morning. Two, strong, tattooed arms with red, rolled-up sleeves were attached to whoever was obviously kidnapping the boy that Pansy had sacrificed so much just to get him back.

And get a little vicarious revenge on Hermione Granger, of course, though that didn't matter now.

None of it did.

All thoughts of escape evaporated.

"I think I found the subject for my first feed." Pansy hissed to Bellatrix as she ran down the secret passage after the kidnapper.

She was unsure if Bellatrix's crazy laugh echoed off of the stone walls or inside her mind, but she was far too focused on her quarry to care.

"I'll save you, Draco!" she muttered under her breath as her lips turned up in a manic grin. "And I'll drain the bastard who took you until all that's left are skin over bones. And then, oh yes, _then_ you will love me."


	36. Chapter 36

**Author's Note:** **So I tried to update yesterday, but this website was being a huge butt, hence the delay. But it looks like everything is fixed now, so I am updating now! Yay!**

 **I very seriously considered doing some more sexytime stuff, but we're in the middle of a climax here, so it's a bit anticlimactic to add...er...** _ **other**_ **sorts of climaxes. Never fear, though! There will be time enough once everything is...well...not** _ **normal**_ **, per se, but after things are a bit more, how do you say it,** _ **wrapped up**_ **? Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's a little fluffy, but it's building up to one hell of a climax, so hopefully you will stay tuned and enjoy what is still to come!**

* * *

 **Chapter 36: Flight to Fight**

"You know, if this sort of thing is going to keep happening everytime we kiss, I am seriously considering just finishing out the school year in your chambers." Hermione panted as they spooned together on the twisted, sweaty sheets.

"I am sure that could be arranged." Severus replied, his breath coming quickly at her ear in hot exhalations.

"What, no pithy remark about what the staff and students might think?" Hermione replied with a cheeky grin, snuggling back into his warmth.

"I would not give a flying fig what any of them might say, not even that daft cow, Skeeter." Severus replied with a sniff. "Normally I might be a private person, but when it comes to _you_ , well...let's just say that it is only the mitigating circumstances that surround us at the moment that are keeping me from announcing our relationship by shouting it from the top of the Astronomy Tower, and you know how much I detest going up there. See also: the rest of the dunderheads you call _peers_."

"Not if I do it first! After all, which of us is the impulsive Gryffindor?" Hermione snickered, squeaking with surprise when he began to tickle her exposed belly with his long fingers. "Agh! Stop! I warn you, I flail!"

"Fair enough." He replied bemusedly, changing his tactics and stroking her stomach instead until Hermione nearly began to purr like a cat.

"I know we should get dressed again, but I'm dreading it, to be honest." Hermione said demurely, wiggling her hips back and forth slightly until he slid his fingers around the sides of her waist and stilled them with a firm squeeze, prompting her to squeak once again. She turned her head back to look at him, her fangs peeking slightly out of her top lip, giving her an almost cat-like grin.

"Being with you is...like nothing else I have ever experienced in my life, and I too am loath to leave." Severus replied. "But you are correct. Unless we wish to have the doors beaten down by two meddlesome vampires, it is probably best if we do the door-beating _first_."

"Poor door, always taking the brunt of the Professor's temper." Hermione said with mock concern, smirking as Severus snorted, grabbing his trousers from the floor as she stood and stretched. "Hey, what's this on the floor?"

"Hmm?" Severus turned to look at her as he pulled his trousers up over his hips and paused.

Hermione was holding the envelope he'd placed in his robes earlier, but that wasn't what he was looking at.

"Is that...a bloody fingerprint?" Severus said softly. "Hermione, please, bring it to me."

Hermione turned the envelope over with a curious look, sniffed at it, and nodded.

"Definitely blood. This enhanced sense of scent sure is useful!" Hermione said thoughtfully. "Though, I'm not so sure about the burning in direct sunlight part of the equation."

"In order to gain great power, there is often great sacrifice as well." Severus replied sagely. "But then again, I'm sure you already knew that, Hermione. You have sacrificed more than most."

Hermione handed over the letter silently, her cheeks going pink and looking away as though she was more ashamed than embarrassed.

"I...I really tried to fix them." she said sadly. "But...they're better off the way they are, anyway. They've even replaced me, in a way. They decided to start a family, even though they're a bit older than most first-time parents. So, technically, I guess I have a sister who shares my name, though she'll never know it. But...I suppose that's okay too...I mean...now...I have you. And we can be our own family, right, Severus?"

Severus smiled a little lopsidedly, a fang poking out slightly on one side. It was an awkward expression that was obviously not well-practiced, but rather than looking like the dour dungeon bat, his eyes were kind and his body seemed to radiate a relaxed sense of happiness. Somehow, though he still appeared as pale, gaunt and greasy-haired as ever, he was _different_. Hermione could feel her heart quicken in her chest, though she knew that vampires had no need for normal heartbeats, and she wondered about that word...the one that Sanguini had used.

If Severus was indeed her _Animavinculum_...what did that mean for them? Would it keep Severus safe from the Deathstrike?

It was far too difficult to tell. Hermione nearly forgot that she had made no motion to begin dressing until Severus fixed her with a look.

 _Fancy visiting with the ancient vampires in your birthday suit, my love?_

"Hmph!" Hermione said, turning around and bending over to pick up her underthings from the floor in an evil bid to make Severus stare at her arse.

It worked, of course.

"You are aware that is rather... _distracting_ , correct? After all, the world could be ending, for all we know." he said, arching an eyebrow as he peeked over the opened letter before his dark eyes finally glanced down to read the writing inside. "What...in the _world_?"

Hermione heard the edge in his voice and dressed quickly, pulling her robes over her head and fastening her handbag around her waist before pulling her hair through and approaching Severus, who'd gone rigid with tension, all hints of playfulness gone.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, her eyes concerned.

"An anonymous note. Sealed with Draco's blood." Severus replied flatly. "He's been taken...kidnapped. And if I don't meet the kidnapper near the Whomping Willow by ten o'clock, Draco will be drained and left as a reminder."

"N...no…." Hermione covered her mouth with her hands. "Even though Draco and I have never been friends...it's just...too…horrible..."

"No, Hermione. That's not the worst of it." Severus said solemnly. "This isn't just a meeting. The kidnapper wants a trade."

"But...what do they want, then?" Hermione asked, feeling a crawling sensation rising up her spine.

"Simple." Severus replied, looking grim. "They want _you_."

"There's something else, isn't there?" Hermione said shakily, blinking quickly to keep the tears from making her vision go blurry.

"Yes."

"Go on, then! Tell me! Please, Severus! It's driving me mad!"

"It says here that I cannot enlist the help of outside influence or tell the Viper about this letter. I must resign myself to my fate, allow the Deathstrike. To save Draco, I have to die."

* * *

Both Sanguini and Erheldt were in a rather compromising position when Hermione burst into the front room, her eyes full of fire and rage.

"OK YOU TWO!" she shouted, stomping in through the door so violently that it slammed against the wall and shuddered on its hinges, her fangs extending fully and her hair flying outward like auburn snakes as blue electric waves pulsed out from her scalp. "YOU HAD BETTER COME WITH US, BECAUSE I SURE AS HELL AM NOT ALLOWING SEVERUS TO GO TO HIS DOOM WHILE I GET USED AS SOME KIND OF HAPLESS PAWN."

Hermione continued to rage at the two bewildered, blinking vampires, both of whom were wearing, between the two of them, only one pair of socks, one white undershirt and a rather disheveled-looking cravat. Unsurprisingly, their fangs slid back into their mouths so quickly, that Erheldt actually pressed his finger under his lip as though checking to make sure that Hermione's outburst hadn't somehow made their fangs fall out altogether in a burst of wild magic.

Severus merely stood behind her, his arms folded quietly as he gave them both a look that said "She is the one you should be afraid of, not me."

"What exactly is she talking about, Severus?" Sanguini finally recovered enough to say, as he cowered behind one of the leather wingback chairs and hastily dressed himself.

"That, I cannot say for various reasons, but apparently Hermione has found _quite_ the loophole." he said with a smirk.

"You bet I've found a loophole! And I'm going to bury that bastard in it!" Hermione fumed, her shoulders heaving as she began to calm herself down with deep, cleansing breaths.

Erheldt chuckled, dressing himself slowly and meticulously, obviously not embarrassed at his nudity whatsoever.

"I look forward to hearing the details." he said, his voice a silky purr that made Sanguini turn and look wistfully at the Viper as he paused in the middle of buttoning his trousers.

"Dress quickly. We need to be at the Whomping Willow in less than fifteen minutes or someone is going to die." Hermione hissed.

"I can see why you like her, Severus." Erheldt said, his voice darkly mirthful, turning to face Hermione. "If someone is in trouble, I shall be happy to add my wand to your entourage. However, there is still a very important conversation that must be had when all is said and done."

"Spare me the long-winded passive-aggressive threats!" Hermione replied dismissively. "I know you can kill us with your pinky finger if you want. I _assure_ you, it's _very_ impressive. But there are lives at stake and I cannot, in good conscience, let them suffer if there is _something_ that I can do about it!"

Sanguini glanced over at Severus with wide, incredulous eyes and Severus shrugged back.

"I think it's best we all do as she says." Severus finally said with a smirk. "She's known to go to... _extremes_ when she feels it is the right course of action. Not that I mind, for she is very rarely wrong."

No one seemed willing to disagree with Severus on his assessment.

Less than ten minutes later, four bat-shaped shadows shot out into the darkened grounds outside of Hogwarts Castle, their squeaks helping them orient themselves in the darkness as they swooped with haste towards a very familiar and deadly rendezvous point.


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37: Revelations**

A dark shape shot through the open space between trees and alighted gracefully on a thick, low hanging branch, which bent only slightly as the bat shifted back into a rather smugly smiling Erheldt. Three other wobbly shapes lagged behind, quivering through the air awkwardly. The white bat, which brought up the rear, suddenly pumped his wings furiously, perhaps to try and catch up with the others. Instead, he merely propelled himself into the other two and sent all three of them spinning out of control into a rather prickly bush. All three squeaked loudly in terror as they tumbled down in a crash landing, their impact against the trunk of the tree making the leaves in the tree shake.

"It is a good thing that this forest is well known for being inhabited by loud, ungainly creatures." Severus said bitterly as he stood, brushing brambles and leaves off of his robes. "I do believe that you shall fit right in, Sanguini."

Hermione stood as well, spitting out a leaf and pulling her wand to divest herself of brambles with a quick silent spell. She did the same for Severus, dislodging a couple of brambles that were stuck to the back of his robes where he couldn't see them. Both of them stepped from the bush without looking back at the little white bat who lay on its back with wings akimbo as it lay stunned. Finally, Hermione turned back, rolling her eyes, and cast an _Ennervate_ on the bat, who transformed into a rather sheepish-looking Sanguini moments later.

"I am truly sorry about that." Sanguini said apologetically, hanging his head with shame. "It was not my intention to cause either of you bodily harm."

"And yet, _somehow_ , you managed to fail. I can't say I'm surprised, though, considering your track record thus far." Severus replied, crossing his arms.

"We don't have much time left." Hermione said with a sniff as she turned away from Sanguini and crossed her arms. "So, can anyone tell me why we landed here?"

"Simple." Erheldt said. "Can you smell it? We are downwind, so I am fairly certain he has not caught our scent, but still, even young ones such as yourselves should be able to detect it."

Both Hermione and Severus lifted their noses simultaneously and sniffed the air, their brows furrowing slightly as they caught the curious scent. Sanguini finally stepped free from the bush, though his clothing was worse for wear and he was still covered with brambles.

"It smells like..." Hermione's voice trailed off as she tried to place the scent.

"... _Power…_ " Severus finished, his fist tightening as he looked towards the silhouette of the Whomping Willow ahead.

"No…it...it _can't_ be…" Sanguini stuttered, his face frozen in shock as he took in the scent as well.

"Ah, so you are familiar with this particular scent as well, _ma doux-sang_." Erheldt replied softly, his eyes growing hard. "While I did not wish to believe that I was being used as a tool to further an unjust agenda, it looks more and more certain that this is indeed the case. It is most fortunate, Sanguini, that you decided to intercept my path before I did something...that could never be undone."

"If you'll pardon my ignorance, do you mind explaining what the scent has to do with our mysterious kidnapper?" Hermione said tersely.

"It is simple." Erheldt replied. "It is the scent of Garbor, a most ancient vampire and the head of the Council. Most incidents like this are investigated more thoroughly, especially one with such suspicious circumstances. Of course, most younger vampires can excuse the confusion due to lack of power and experience, but Garbor has none. But I do suspect that he does have some sort of grudge."

"Gar-who?" Hermione asked. "But why would he be out to get us, anyway?"

"Hermione." Severus interrupted, placing his hand on her shoulder. "We cannot stand here and play a game of twenty questions. There is a Blood Oath tied to this ransom letter and if we do not heed its words, the worst could happen."

"We will stay here and wait until the Blood Oath is fulfilled." Erheldt replied darkly. "Simply send a shower of green sparks into the sky and we shall come like death in the night."

"Oh, and Severus….and Hermione?" Sanguini said, approaching them. "If I may…"

He grabbed both of them by the hand and placed their hands together.

"Stay together." Sanguini said, an edge of sadness in his voice. "Do not allow him to separate you at any cost. Together you will be... _unstoppable_ , even against one such as Garbor. You are soul-bonded. And, though I hold no love for the man, your Dumbledore was correct when he said that love triumphs over all. Remember _that_ , even if all seems lost."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence." Severus said sardonically, but when Sanguini looked back down, his fingers were tightly intertwined with Hermione's.

"Shall we go kick another monster's butt, then?" Hermione asked, her wand at the ready.

"I don't see why not." Severus replied, his expression somewhat bored, though his body was tensed as though readying for the fight ahead. "After all, we've both beaten our share of monsters."

"What's one more?" Hermione replied, grinning widely enough to show her fangs.

"Spoken like a true Gryffindor" Severus replied, smirking until he flashed his fangs as well. "But then again, I'd never want you any other way."

The two nodded at Erheldt and Sanguini curtly, their expressions growing solemn and focused before the two set off towards the Whomping Willow at a breakneck pace.

"I wish I had more time to explain." Sanguini said sadly as he watched them disappear over the rise in the hill.

"There will be time." Erheldt replied. "When you live as long as I have, there is always time."

" _If_ they survive." Sanguini said bitterly. "I do not doubt that Garbor will have some truly nasty tricks up his sleeves."

"Then our tricks will simply have to be nastier." Erheldt replied, palming his fist and grinning predatorily. "Prepare yourself, old friend, for once we see green, it shall be, how do they say it? Party time?"

"Indeed." Sanguini replied, his eyes narrowed with hatred. "A _retirement_ party fit for a murdering bastard."


	38. Chapter 38

Author's Note: So, I've been out in the wilderness for a couple of days, which is the perfect time to decompress and think of ideas (also to keep small children from face-planting in the fire pit, but I digress). So, now that I'm back and everyone is successfully de-grimed, I'm hoping to bring you back to your regularly scheduled fanfiction.

* * *

 **Chapter 38: The Vampire Who Would Be A God**

"Stay close, Hermione," Severus said softly, squeezing her hand as they came to a halt near the Whomping Willow, "no matter what you see or hear. Ancient vampires can affect younger vampires in much the way that you or I can affect the average human. It is not common knowledge, but it may very well be the difference between life and death."

He pressed his wand into his temple and muttered a spell that Hermione was unfamiliar with.

"Do you trust me?" he said after a moment, pointing his wand at her tentatively.

She nodded and closed her eyes as the tip of his wand pressed lightly against her temple. There was a pulse of energy and light danced under her eyelids for a moment before it faded.

"Open your eyes. Tell me what you see."

Hermione shuddered and peered out towards the tree, her eyes widening with surprise.

The Willow drooped sadly to the right, looking for all the world as though it had been knocked unconscious by a sucker punch from a giant. Its thick bludgeoning arms rested heavily against the grassy hillside ending in globe-like knots that almost looked like massive boxing gloves in the divots of earth made by their impact. A shadowy figure leaned against the trunk of the tree with one knee bent up as though casually waiting for a bus. A cigar dangled from the man's mouth, the ember at the tip burning as brightly as a tiny sun.

"I can see almost as clearly as though it were the middle of the afternoon!" she whispered back excitedly.

"We must find and recover Draco first. Once he is safe, the Blood Oath should be satisfied and whichever of us is able to send up the sparks will do so." Severus said, his voice both whispery and grave.

The man tapped the cigar and turned his head to the side as something rustled in the bushes to his right. Hermione continued to look pointedly around the base of the Whomping Willow until she noticed that a shadowy bundle lay slumped against the side as though resting uncomfortably against the bark of the tree.

Draco.

"We can't use stealth because he knows that we will be coming," Severus said bitterly. "We must simply go in quickly and hope that our brashness surprises him."

"Do you think it will work?" Hermione asked hopefully as they drew ever closer.

"No." Severus replied flatly. "But, if we are lucky, this bond that Sanguini believes that we have together will be enough to shield us."

"You don't believe in his theory?" Hermione asked, sounding somewhat hurt.

"It does not matter what I do or do not believe in." Severus replied, squeezing her hand. "It only matters what is true. I know it in my very soul that we are connected more deeply than anything I have ever experienced in my life. Whether this is what Sanguini believes in or some other phenomenon, it will not change how I feel about you, how I _choose_ to feel about you. _That_ is the only truth that I can confirm. But something tells me that the depth of its strength is something that Garbor will not be expecting."

"Ah, the two lovebirds have arrived and are still chirping away without a care in the world. How quaint." The voice that issued forth from the side of Garbor's mouth as he sucked in the taste of his cigar was surprisingly high, nearly nasal, though it also managed to hold a richness and power that even Erheldt would have been unable to match.

His arms were dark as though he'd spent years under the sun and he'd rolled up his sleeves to show off his well-defined biceps, which were covered in dark black tattoos from his backs of his hands and stretching up to his upper arms where they disappeared under his clothing, giving him an oddly muggle punk look even though he was still wearing dark burgundy robes. As Hermione looked closer, she realized with a surge of nausea that the black designs were _moving_ across his skin. They were some sort of magical tattoo that she'd never seen before. Though his skin was tight and youthful, his hair was a shockingly bright white. It was cut short and stuck out from his scalp in tiny perfect spikes that made him appear as though he'd been electrocuted recently.

With her enhanced sight, she could tell that his eyes were an icy blue, and she shuddered as they alighted on her and swept over to Severus, who stood at her side like a tall shadow.

"I have fulfilled my end of the bargain by arriving by the appointed time with Hermione Granger, as per your instructions." Severus said stiffly, his wand out but pointed at the ground. "You must release Draco unharmed."

"Oh, you _would_ like to think that, wouldn't you?" Garbor grinned, looking more like one of those deeply tanned surfer dudes from California than an ancient vampire with a mysterious grudge. His cold voice was at odds with his body language, but even so, both Hermione and Severus could feel the temperature around them drop as his power flared around them.

"Come on, then, girl. Let's see your fangs." It was not a request.

Hermione averted her eyes from him, but still, she felt her fangs loosen and retract without her conscious thought. Her mouth watered and she felt a strange haze fill her mind as she bared them at the ancient vampire. The air around him shimmered for a moment and then...he was suddenly inches away from Hermione, his fingers resting lightly under her chin and lifting her mouth to inspect her fangs as she desperately tried not to panic and flinch away from his touch.

"Very good. So she's fully Changed, then?" Garbor asked casually, as though asking about the weather, stroking her throat softly with his warm fingers. "I wonder, was she a good fuck, then? Did she squeal and writhe when you poured your seed into her? Did she beg you to implant an heir in her womb?"

Hermione turned scarlet even as her body pulsed with the memory of all that had transpired. It did not escape her notice how Severus inhaled sharply before he was able to regain control of himself.

"It is of no consequence what we do in private." Severus replied, his voice deadpan as he pulled Hermione closer to his side, away from the tattooed vampire's touch. "With all due respect, Dominus Garbor."

"Oh? So you _do_ know my proper title! What a surprise, especially for one who has chosen to remain so disconnected from his heritage!" Garbor turned to face Severus and let out a booming laugh that was as cruel as it was jovial. "Severus _is_ truly a rather fitting name for you, for you sever your ties with our traditions and abilities, only using them when they suit your ends. Why, it is as though you are not a true vampire at all, merely a mortal with a fondness for blood!"

"The Need is not a _fondness_ , Dominus Garbor, as you well know." Severus replied through gritted teeth, his fangs slipping past his lips as his eyes went hard.

"Ah, yes, but then again, you haven't suffered the Need for a few days now, have you?" Garbor said sharply, his grin spreading like a gash across his face.

"I've fed, if that is what you are asking me." Severus replied, his voice as flat and emotionless as his eyes. Hermione could feel his shields slamming down around him, and she did her best not to show how much it hurt to feel cut off from so much of him.

Garbor's grin widened even further until he looked like a cartoonish impression of a human face smiling ear to ear. His nostrils flared as he sniffed twice, his eyes closed as he seemed to catch a scent that only he could smell.

"Ah, but you've only fed from your pretty little mate here." Garbor replied, his eyes snapping open again, the mania in those icy blue orbs finally reaching his voice. "Technicalities are a fun little game to play, but I must confess that I am far, far better at it than you can ever hope to be."

"We would like Draco back." Hermione finally found her voice as she stared fiercely at Garbor's black leather boots. "Unharmed, as Severus said."

"Oh, I am sure that you would like that!" Garbor replied with a sharp laugh. "But first...yes...but _first_ , let's play another game!"

"I abhor games." Severus replied unamusedly. "Especially when it does not take the powers of a Seer to realize that any game you would want to play would be hopelessly rigged in your favor."

"True, true." Garbor replied, looking at the sharpened points of his fingernails, which were painted a glossy crimson that made them appear to be coated in blood. "But seeing as you have no other choice, I suppose that you will have to play anyway. The game is simple, actually. You must get to your little human student before I do. If you get there first, you shall have him, unharmed. But if I get there first…"

Garbor's form went hazy and he reappeared nearly instantaneously behind Draco, pulling the boy up by his hair. Hermione could see that Draco's eyes were closed and his breathing was shallow. There were ropes twisting around his body, fastening his arms to his sides.

"I do so hate such easy prey, but...an example is an example…" Garbor's fangs dropped from his lips lightning fast and he laid them lightly against Draco's neck without drawing blood.

"We understand what is at stake." Severus replied, eyeing them both cooly.

Garbor seemed somewhat disappointed in the lack of reaction he was receiving and dropped Draco abruptly as though forgetting about him altogether. The unconscious Slytherin student slammed against the root of the Whomping Willow, his chest moving slightly up and down as he breathed.

"You know," Hermione said thoughtfully, "It might be more fun if you added a bit of a challenge to it."

" _Oh_?" Garbor appeared next to Hermione, his body so close to hers that she instinctively backed up a step, which seemed to please him even more.

"Yeah, I mean, you'll still totally win, but...it might give you a bit more of a thrill." Hermione continued, glancing at Severus, who was giving her an irritated look that she knew was actually his worried look.

"What do you propose? _Do_ tell me before I lose my patience." Garbor's fingers were curling around Hermione's hair as he moved to stand behind her.

"Why not race around a predetermined course in your bat-forms? Severus has only recently been able to transform, so he's nowhere near as coordinated as I am sure that you are. It would be a more traditional challenge and you'll be almost guaranteed to win, leaving you with not only the novelty of the race, but the enjoyment of knowing that you earned it instead of simply teleporting in a fraction of a second."

"Hmm...the girl is right, it does indeed sound like novel fun." Garbor said, more to himself than to anyone. "Very well, but a couple of rules. No wands. No cheating. And, to sweeten the pot, if I win, I get to take the girl as well. I mean, I was going to take her anyway once Erheldt finished carrying out his orders, but this way, it feels more like a real prize."

"What do you want with me anyway?" Hermione replied irritably, before she could use the good sense to stay quiet. "It's not like I'll want to go with you."

"Ah, but it is not _you_ that I want." Garbor said, his hand sliding around the front of her and lightly tapping the tips of his fingernails against the fabric of her robes as Hermione gritted her teeth at his touch. "It is _this_."

Severus went very still, his hand still in Hermione's, but she could tell that he was fighting with himself, doing his best not to turn his wand on the ancient vampire who was touching his mated partner.

"You must be mistaken." Severus replied, his eyes looking somewhat frightened as he seemed to guess Garbor's meaning. "Vampires are sterile. They cannot reproduce the way that regular humans do."

"True, true." Garbor replied, clicking his tongue briskly. "But, there's this interesting phenomenon that happens from time to time. Very rare, in fact. And when it happens, a pair of vampires becomes a breeding pair, one that can do what all others cannot. They're drawn to one another. They can't help it."

"Breeding pair? What...are you saying?" Hermione asked slowly, realization finally dawning upon her.

"I'm saying that your little _soul mate_ here has been filling you up with high-octane semen for, what, three, four days straight? I can smell it on you. Your womb must be filled to the brim with it. I am almost surprised that you don't make cartoonish sloshing noises when you walk." Garbor smiled rakishly, his fingernails pressing more painfully against her her abdomen. "But at least one of those tiny swimmers has made contact, of that I am certain."

"That's ridiculous!" Hermione snapped, color rising on her cheeks. "You can't know so soon. No one can."

"Ah, but I have what you might call a very specialized sense of smell. I can smell when a man is about to die. I can smell the true age of a mortal, give or take a year. I can also, as it happens, smell pregnancy as well." Garbor slowly walked around to face her and sniffed at Hermione's cheek before traveling down, sniffing at her belly and then lower until he reached the apex of her thighs. "You are, as they say, with child. Knocked up. Up the duff. Etcetera. It is a very special time, as I am sure you are aware. And your daughter shall be very special, more special than you shall ever know."

"How could you possibly know what the gender will be?" Severus finally said, his voice shaking ever so slightly.

Hermione merely stood there, her wand tucked back into her sleeve as she used her free hand to touch the flat expanse of her abdomen with disbelief. Even though she'd said she would gladly carry his child, the reality was a bit more shocking than she could properly handle.

"That is for me to know and for you never to find out." Garbor said cryptically. "Besides, it's almost time for you to lose horribly for my amusement."

"We shall set the rules by blood oath." Severus said flatly, his voice cracking slightly. "We shall both be bats, follow a predetermined course, no usage of magic allowed, no teleporting and no cheating. Whoever wins will be entitled to Draco in his current state and return home with Hermione."

"You took the words out of my mouth, Severus." Garbor replied with a smirk. "It is too bad that you shall never see your mate swell with your child. I hear that females become even more insatiable the closer they come to giving birth. But I suppose I shall be able to provide an alternate option when she is incoherent with a very different sort of _need_."

Hermione recoiled with disgust at Garbor's implication, but he merely smirked wider.

"Ah, does that _upset_ you? Then perhaps I shall take her in full view while you are forced to watch helplessly once I have received her as my own to do as I wish. I'll just bend her over and slip inside of her and neither of you will have any say in the matter."

"Take. Your. Hands. Off. Of. Her. Now." Severus hissed, stepping in front of Hermione abruptly and raising his wand to Garbor's neck. "Head of the Council or not, you will not treat her in such a disgraceful manner. _Especially_ if she is, as you stated so crassly, _knocked up_."

Hermione felt a prickle of not altogether unpleasant heat shoot through her body when she heard Severus say those words. Even in their dire situation, she still held out hope that they might somehow be able to escape and build a life together as she'd naively begun to hope would be the case after escaping Pansy and recruiting the Viper with a Deathstrike out on Severus as an ally.

She should have known that things would never be that easy.

"The course shall be lighted like so!" Garbor tossed up blinking fairy lights, which illuminated a space of sky that stretched out above the Black Lake and flew around back to where Draco lay, nearly face down now, on the grass.

With another unnervingly fast motion, Garbor changed into a reddish bat with mottled black markings on his wings that looked eerily like his tattoos, and he flapped towards the start line. Severus began to follow, his face growing pinched as he began to focus on the change.

 _WAIT_! Hermione called out in his mind, and Severus stilled at once, his eyes darting to the side.

She pulled at her robes a bit and fiddled with the beaded handbag until she'd finally pulled out a tiny little flask of familiar golden liquid.

 _There isn't much left, but it is better than nothing. And no one said that potions were prohibited._

Hermione smiled hesitantly, waiting for Severus to react. His eyes shone slightly, and she could feel the rush of heady desire that filled him as he saw her standing there with a rather un-Gryffindor-like plan.

 _I would kiss you right this moment for your brilliance if it wouldn't also draw his attention to us._

Hermione's eyes went wide.

 _That's it!_

She pulled the stopper, standing with her back to the starting line, and drew the _Felix Felicis_ into her mouth. Then she looked up at him with a sly expression, sending the words into his mind.

 _Kiss me, my love, and do make it convincing._

The look he gave her burned with desire.

 _That shall not be a problem._

He drew her lips up against his, then, slowly siphoning the golden liquid into his own mouth, drinking it down quickly as he kissed her and tasted her, holding her tightly to his body as though he would never let go.

He drew back after what seemed like hours, their bodies crying out for more, and with a final squeeze of her hand and a determined look at the fluttering speck that was Garbor, who was squeaking and looking rather annoyed at their display of affection, he shifted into bat form almost seamlessly, taking to the air in moments and pumping his wings quickly to reach his opponent. The orb of light that hovered between the two bats turned from red to amber to green and then they were off, zooming down the lighted path in a race that looked almost silly as they swooped and squeaked, but was for higher stakes than Hermione wished to dwell upon. She could still taste the sweet flavor of _Felix Felicis_ in her mouth and she swallowed slowly, hoping that a drop or two would give her just a little bit of luck as well. Her hands absently stroked her abdomen as she wondered if Garbor was actually being truthful, or if he was simply trying to unnerve her, throw her off guard. It was then that she wondered if they'd unintentionally doomed themselves by breaking physical contact, but she also knew that it was far too late to worry about that now.

Hermione was far too busy watching the action in the sky to notice that someone was creeping towards Draco's silent body; someone who cast a shadow that looked unnervingly like a wild-haired witch who'd been dead for more than a year.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39: Covetous Things**

Pansy Parkinson had been waiting in the bushes far longer than she was comfortable admitting, even to herself. It hadn't been her original intention, but even she could feel the waves of power emanating from the man that had taken Draco. A direct assault was suicide, so she'd waited, knowing that, at least for the time being, Draco was no worse for wear. She'd nearly pissed herself when she'd shifted slightly and the ancient vampire's head had turned sharply in her direction. But all of that had changed when Granger and Snape had appeared.

So he was known as _Garbor..._ at least, that had been what Professor Snape had called him. For some reason, the name sounded familiar, but Pansy couldn't seem to recall exactly where she'd heard it before. She was even more elated when two vampire bats had shot into the sky, leaving Draco unattended. Pansy crept closer and closer to Draco's prone, unconscious body, her eyes full of a feverish desire as she began to see more detail in his features in the darkness. She was so focused that she did not realize that she was not truly alone.

 _ **Give me Granger. Now!**_

Bellatrix's voice hissed in her brain like a thousand angry snakes and Pansy reeled, stumbling over one of the Whomping Willow's exposed roots. She cried out instinctively and then squeaked as she realized that she'd given herself away.

A bushy expanse of shadowy hair turned to stare at Pansy in the darkness and she froze, feeling tiny forks of electric energy filling the air between them. Red, glowing eyes peered out of the shadowy face as a wicked fanged smile cut a wide path of ivory white where pursed lips had been moments before.

"YOU!" Hermione's voice was filled with cold fury as she advanced on the scrambling Slytherin girl.

 _ **You promised me!**_

"Are you _crazy_? She's going to kill me!" Pansy stammered, clutching her ankle as it burned with the pain.

Bellatrix laughed shrilly in Pansy's head until she was sure it would cleave in two.

 _ **Then you will give me the power to do it myself, you wretched, cowardly girl!**_

Pansy felt something thick and misty slide slowly out of the pores in her skin and she nearly shrieked at the pain of it, her eyes following the strange fluid as it hit the ground next to her. Her eyes widened, then. She hadn't noticed her shadow was no longer her own until that very moment. The dark blobs of mist poured relentlessly from her body and absorbed into the shadow until it stood on its own accord, a dark outline with no definition other than around the edges. Pansy could feel the energy draining from her and bright spots of light began to obscure her field of vision.

"Nu...No...Gotta...D..Draco…" Pansy gurgled and collapsed onto her side, her outstretched hand falling limply onto Draco's thigh; her body growing pinched and withered as though she'd been drained of all fluid.

The shadow flickered and filled out for a moment, dark fingers sliding under Pansy's robes and pulling out the silver dagger, the color and shape plumping out the dark outline until Bellatrix Lestrange stood up straight, triumph in her eyes. Bending over once more in a jerky motion, she snatched Pansy's wand from her limp, withered fingers and then grinned insanely.

"Time to finish what I started, don't you agree, little girl?" she said in a sing-song voice, turning to face Hermione with the dagger in one hand and Pansy's wand in the other. "It isn't what I'm used to, but I don't need anything special to mean it when I say _Avada-_!"

That was as far as Bellatrix got.

Hermione's wand was pointed at the black-clad witch, her fangs extended in a rage-filled snarl.

" _Crucio_!" Hermione cried loudly.

"Hahaha! You fool!" Bellatrix cackled. "I don't even have a corporeal-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

She nearly bent backwards as the pain hit her, crashing in a heap on the ground and howling with pain, the dagger spinning out of her hand.

"You can pick things up. You're corporeal enough." Hermione said in a dangerously low voice, still pointing her wand at Bellatrix's throat, her boot pressing heavily on Bellatrix's arm until she finally released the wand. Hermione kicked it away into the tall grass.

A choking noise issued from Bellatrix's throat. Hermione's eyes widened with surprise and then narrowed with fury when she realized that it was _laughter_.

"Look at Dumbledore's precious Mudblood now!" she rasped. "I thought you were too good for Unforgivables!"

"I can make an exception for unforgivable _acts_ , you wretched bitch! I _saw_ you slither out of Pansy's body like some kind of disease. You were the one who nearly killed Severus! It was _you_ all along!" Hermione hissed back, her eyes glowing like embers in the darkness.

"Oh no, Pansy did want to kill him too. I just helped her decide _how_!" Bellatrix's voice grew to a triumphant growl as she pressed up against the boot on her arm and allowed the wand to dig into her skin. "If only I had known he was a vampire, I would have staked his heart myself and laughed while I did it! So many things I would have done differently, and now... _now_ I shall!"

" _Don't_." Hermione snarled back as she pressed the tip of her wand even more firmly into Bellatrix's throat, the rage barely contained in her voice. "I might accidentally separate your head from your neck."

"I would have carved 'Mudblood' across your ugly little face too." Bellatrix was cackling as she spoke now as though she hadn't heard a thing Hermione had just said. "Even Snape would have thought twice before taking you to his bed. But then again, he's always had a thing for mudbloods, you know. Of course, _you're_ no match for that other girl...what was her name again? Oh _yes_. I think you've heard of her. Lily Evans. She's dead, you know. Just like you're going to be."

"SHUT UP!" Hermione shouted, her eyes darting over to Bellatrix's free hand just in time to see Bellatrix grab the dagger and twist, plunging the blade into Hermione's leg.

Hermione screamed as the silver bit into her flesh, flying backwards and falling to one knee to take the weight off of her injury as a wet stream of red poured from the wound.

"Not so smug now, are we?" Bellatrix was on her feet in a moment, holding the blade to her lips and gleefully licking the blood off of it. "Yes, yes! More! More!"

Hermione muttered a quick summoning spell through gritted teeth and the phial of Dittany flew into her free hand from her bag. She didn't even bother to measure the amount and simply poured it messily over the wound until it began to close more slowly than she'd hoped it would.

"Silver is so useful, don't you think?" Bellatrix was circling Hermione like a predator circling prey. "It's _especially_ useful on vampires! How about another little demonstration!"

Bellatrix lunged out with the blade, but Hermione deflected the attack with a quick Shield Charm, which began to fade in seconds. Bellatrix may have been insane, but she was also right- the silver had weakened her magic. She knew that it was only a matter of time before she would be a second too late and the blade would hit her somewhere much more lethal than her leg.

She'd completely forgotten about the race between Garbor and Severus.

"What is _this_?!"

Both Bellatrix and Hermione were so surprised that they turned to look at the source of the shout. Garbor was holding the limp form of Pansy as though holding a rather offensive insect. Next to him, Severus had shifted into human form, grabbed Draco and had hoisted the thin blond Slytherin student over his shoulder like a muggle fireman. It was only when Garbor had shouted that his tunnel vision seemed to dissipate and he nearly dropped Draco in his haste to pull his wand on Bellatrix.

" _You_!" he hissed, turning his wand on Garbor momentarily before pointing it back at Bellatrix again. "Did _you_ have anything to do with this?"

Garbor narrowed his eyes at Severus as though the insinuation that he'd needed help was highly insulting.

"I don't want the vessel damaged!" he replied, rolling his eyes. Garbor shimmered as he had before and appeared next to Hermione in moments, grabbing her and picking her up gently. "Now, then, look at me, girl. I shall ease your pain."

Hermione didn't want to look at him, but the proximity of the vampire was doing strange things to her head. She began to feel a fuzzy sensation buzzing in the back of her brain and before she knew it, she was looking deeply in his icy blue eyes. Suddenly, her body began to feel very relaxed and pain free.

"Sev..er….u…" she said dreamily, her eyes growing heavier and heavier.

"Shhh, sleep now." Garbor said, his grin widening as he looked up and saw that Severus was doing his best to rush over towards them with Draco in tow, but even with his enhanced vampiric strength, it was still slower going to carry someone on his shoulder. Then, he seemed to remember something and froze, shooting green sparks into the air.

"Dont forget me, you vampiric bastard! The girl is _mine_!" Bellatrix chose this moment to stab Garbor in the back.

Rather than scream, he made a noise that sounded as though the wind had been knocked out of his body and, gathering Hermione in one arm, his hand reached around the back at an impossible angle and pulled the knife free, wrenching it from Bellatrix's hand as well. She shrieked with the pain of her twisted wrist, two of her fingers bending at odd angles.

He simply brought the blade around to admire its shape and size.

"Silver might work on some of my kind, but it isn't much of a problem for me." Garbor said smugly. "Here, Severus! Catch!"

He threw the knife with deadly accuracy and it would have hit Severus square in the chest if he hadn't fallen backwards and landed hard on the grassy hill at the very last minute. Instead, the knife embedded itself in the Whomping Willow's trunk.

Garbor seemed to hear something, and he smiled, looking like a cat that had eaten a cage full of canaries.

"Ah, looks as though I've worn out my welcome!" he said, staring down at Severus, who was scrambling to stand under Draco's comatose weight. "I'd say that it was a pleasure, Severus, except it hasn't been. I'll be sure to send your mate to the afterlife as soon as she wears out her usefulness!"

Garbor grabbed Hermione's wand from her limp hand and tossed it into the Black Lake. Then, in a blur of movement, he was gone.

" _ **NO**_!" Severus shouted hoarsely, reaching the spot where the two of them had been only moments before.

He turned, then, rage burning in his dark eyes. Bellatrix was still screaming and rolling on the ground, holding her broken fingers gingerly. He turned, then and cleanly pulled the dagger from the tree.

"You're pathetic." he said flatly to Bellatrix. "Even more pathetic than you were when you were actually alive. Now, then. Go join your Master in Hell."

He tossed the dagger high into the air over the Black Lake and shot a jet of Fiendfyre from the tip of his wand. The flame curled like a living thing around the metal blade and it melted and burned until it was a useless lump before it hit the surface of the lake with a hissing splash. With a screech louder than any she'd ever uttered in life, Bellatrix's body began to catch fire and turn black until she was a black flat outline once more. With a final shudder, she broke apart, her dust scattering into the air before all went silent.

It was only moments before Sanguini and Erheldt had arrived, their wands drawn and their bodies tensed for battle. When they saw Severus looking dejectedly in the direction that Garbor had disappeared, they froze, their faces filled with shock and horror.

"He took her." Severus muttered quietly, all emotion wrung out of his voice. "It was his plan all along, and I stupidly played into it. I should have listened to you, Sanguini. I should never have let go of her hand."

"It's not-" Sanguini started.

"What? My fault? You better _believe_ that it's my goddamn _fault_!" Severus said, his voice rising, even though he still wouldn't turn to face them. "I was supposed to protect her! We're soulbound and yet I couldn't allow myself to let her help me! I had to try and win his stupid race myself! I love her more than anyone and I stupidly fell for his ruse! I even took some of that so-called luck potion and, sure, I won the race, but I lost Hermione! I lost her! And now…"

He turned, then, and both Sanguini and Erheldt could see that his face was twisted with grief, his cheeks wet with bitter tears.

"She's pregnant. And if Garbor's nose is as good as he claims, she's going to have a girl...a daughter! He wants something with our child, and he's willing to use Hermione as an incubator to get what he wants."

Sanguini sucked in a breath, his face ashen.

"So that's why Musette was killed." he said, almost inaudibly, his hands covering his mouth with shock.

"What was that?" Severus replied brokenly.

"My _Animavinculum_." Sanguini replied, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "She was murdered while pregnant with our son and I am certain that Garbor was involved, though there is no hard evidence. Musette would never have terminated, you see. It just wasn't her nature. He would have had to kill her to stop her from carrying to term."

"But he wants a girl. For some heinous purpose I cannot even begin to imagine, I am sure." Erheldt said, frowning with disgust.

"I must bring these two up to see Madam Pomfrey, but then I must find where Garbor lives and I must bring Hermione back safely. Now that the Blood Oath is broken on Draco, I should not need to worry about his safety. I do not know if I can do this alone, but if you will not join me in coming to her aid, I shall do what I must or die trying."

"N...no…" Draco said weakly, groaning as he tried to pull himself up. "I'm...I'm coming with you."

"How much did you hear?" Severus spoke quietly, pronouncing each syllable clearly.

"Enough to know that Gra-er-Hermione is going to need you not to be dead from running foolishly into a deathtrap alone." Draco replied, pulling himself up to standing on wobbly legs.

"Don't be ridiculous." Severus snapped, turning his face away. "You're in no shape to-"

"I'm an adult, Professor. Let me remind you that I fought in a _war_ , just in case your memory is being selectively foggy." Draco replied sharply. "I know what I want to do. I want to help defeat this arsehole who has creepy plans for your future kid. Now stop acting like a bloody Gryffindor and let me help you!"

"Don't make me take House Points-" Severus started, shaking with anger.

"Take them all. I'm still coming." Draco replied, crossing his arms.

" _Fine_!" Severus spat, throwing up his hands. "Why don't you just jump into the lake and drown instead? It'll be a faster and less painful death!"

"Severus, let the boy come." Erheldt said suddenly, and the other three stared at him in shock.

"But..but...why?" Sanguini spluttered. "The Underground is no place for a…"

"I think he shall prove rather useful." Erheldt said sagely.

"Well, then, now that everyone else has decided to take over my plan for me, does anyone else have any suggestions? Maybe a trip to a petting zoo? A stop off at the ice cream parlor?" Severus said sardonically, crossing his arms in irritation.

"Oh, do be a good sport, Severus." Erheldt chuckled darkly. "After all, just think, if anyone gets hungry, Draco can provide refreshments."

"Do you mind explaining what this girl is doing here, then?" Sanguini said, pointing to Pansy's unconscious form, still lying on the ground where Garbor had dropped her.

"It is my duty as a professor to take her to the Infirmary, but…" Severus went quiet, his face growing rather pinched with shame.

"This is the girl, isn't it?" Sanguini said, his eyes growing hard. "The one who forced you to sire the second time."

Severus said nothing, his body rigid as he avoided Sanguini's questioning gaze.

"What did she do to you?" Draco asked, his voice growing worried.

"It's none of your business!" Severus snapped back.

"I must have you know that you will have to tell me what transpired at the very least in order for me to cancel the Deathstrike." Erheldt said gently, his voice without a trace of his earlier smugness.

"She...she nearly drained me dry after incapacitating me." Severus said quietly. "She...did _things_ to my body too, but the details are irrelevant. Suffice to say, I didn't want her to do it, but she did it anyway. If Hermione hadn't come back…"

He trailed off, looking out at the Black Lake.

"She transformed into this horrifying fleshy... _thing_...and that's all I can remember before I blacked out."

"So _that's_ what that thing was!" Draco exclaimed with disgust, feeling three pairs of eyes on him immediately. "It... _she_...tried to get into my room! Almost succeeded too, if not for Goyle and Greengrass hexing the shit out of her."

Erheldt looked solemn.

"Well, then, I shall need some Pensieve memories from you both to confirm, but I think that the Council will be satisfied. Of course, this means that the true culprit in all of this will need to be punished. I am sure that you are aware that forced siring is frowned heavily upon by our kind."

"Smell her, Erheldt." Sanguini said, bending down to inspect the unconscious girl. "She hasn't had her first feeding yet. She's not yet Changed."

"Oh, is that so?" Erheldt said, a dark amusement creeping back into his voice as he bent and sniffed lightly at the air around her and nodded. "Well, then, I do believe that I have the absolute perfect... _fate_ for this _Pansy…_ "

Pulling his wand in one swift motion, Erheldt levitated Pansy's form and looked to Severus.

"I know where Garbor stays in London." he said solemnly. "We'll make a stop to drop off this little _unruhestifter_ in the appropriate place and then we shall, as you say, _go on the hunt_."

"Draco, this is your final chance to back out." Severus said, turning stiffly towards the blond Slytherin student. "It is not a mark of cowardice to live and fight another day."

Draco snorted. "Sounds like you ought to take your own advice, Professor."

"Fine. Do as you will. We shall not slow down if you get tired." Severus replied shortly, turning abruptly around and pointing towards the Forbidden Forest. "The best path to get past the Anti-Apparition wards is through those trees over there. Apparition should be the best manner to travel to London in the most expedient manner possible. Any questions?"

"Just one. If we do find this Garbor, how are we going to defeat him?" Draco asked, looking a bit sheepish at the stares he received from the three vampires.

"To be honest," Severus said darkly, "I'm still trying to decide which one will be the most painful and humiliating."

"No one turns me into a murderer for impure ends without incurring heavy consequences for their troubles." Erheldt growled, his eyes growing intense as he pressed a fist into his hand.

"He killed my _soulmate and my unborn child_!" Sanguini hissed angrily. "A quick death would be _far_ too kind!"

Draco gulped but said nothing as he followed the three others towards the Apparition point with Severus in the lead.


	40. Chapter 40

**Author's Note:** **Sorry for the delay! As usual, life came and smacked me upside the head. Work has been so stressful that I've been having nightmares (and you know it's bad when you keep dreaming about spreadsheets). And it was my 9 year wedding anniversary a couple days ago, so I finally got to go out to dinner alone with my husband for the first time in...what...six months? Ah, the glamorous life of me.**

 **Anyway, so, I've been trying to finish this chapter between this and everything else. I know you still have many questions, but hopefully there will be many more answers to come as we reach the thrilling conclusion!**

* * *

 **Chapter 40: In Transit**

Hermione felt like she was floating in a decadent cloud. She was not cold, nor was she overly warm. It was that delicious warmth of half-slumber, which left her floating comfortably between wakefulness and dreaming. She kept trying to remember something important, something she was supposed to know, but it kept slipping from her grasp like steam. She stretched a little, realizing that the air around her was fresh and cool, but this merely made her yawn widely and she savored the sweet taste of it. As she opened her eyes a crack, she could see the sun rising slowly over the horizon but there was no pain. She was _flying_. She knew that vampires burned in sunlight, and so she knew it had to be a dream. Clouds floated on either side of her and she reached out one hand slowly to touch the smoky tufts that seemed to hang in the air like light gray candy floss.

"Hush, young one. It is not yet time to wake." The voice was soft and familiar, but even though it was gentle, Hermione could feel the menacing power in it. Her mind began to perk up in protest as her thoughts began to clear, but just as quickly as she'd begun to wake, she could feel her body sinking back down into unconsciousness. The last thing she saw as her eyes slipped shut once again was an icy blue set of eyes looking hungrily down at her. She whimpered once in her sleep and then fell still once more.

* * *

"I just don't see why _I_ had to be the one to retrieve Granger's wand!" Draco grumbled, casting a Drying Charm on himself for the tenth time.

"Just be thankful that the Giant Squid was more in the mood for a game of _Keep Away_ than a game of _Squeeze the Student Until His Eyes Bulge Out_." Severus replied, crossing his arms in irritation at Draco's sour attitude.

They were walking down an old, narrow street in the heart of London, the ground more cobblestone than asphalt, though it was unclear if the cobblestones had been placed there on purpose for the tourists or were indeed as old as they looked.

None of the four figures seemed interested in finding out.

"I apologize for the time it took to drop off the girl to the proper authorities. The sun will rise soon. We must make haste to the Underground unless we want to draw unwanted attention to ourselves." Erheldt said sagely.

"Indeed. Every Englishman knows that it is highly improper to spontaneously combust in public." Severus replied sardonically. "What would the neighbors think? One shudders to imagine."

"What are they going to do to Pansy?" Draco asked, his expression guarded as though he was struggling with conflicting emotions about his ex-girlfriend having been handed off to a number of solemn-faced vampires only minutes before.

"They will take her to a holding cell in the Underground. There is a separate facility for...those sorts of transports." Sanguini said matter-of-factly. "Since the Deathstrike was not authorized for her, she will be examined and then sentenced. She will be seen by the Council once they have the time to review her case. Erheldt will be summoned and give his testimony. Pensive evidence will be given. And then, a verdict will be reached."

"Oh." Draco said flatly, his eyes focused on the ground.

"It is through here. The station is down this way." Erheldt tapped a brick wall next to a subway vent and it revealed an old, circular door with a pull ring on one side.

He pulled on it with great effort to his immediate left and instead of pulling outward, the door rolled to the side, as though it were on tracks. As they all stepped inside, the door slid shut automatically and they were left in pitch black darkness.

"Draco, that had better not be _you_ on my toe." Severus said unamusedly, as his wand-tip flared with light.

" _Well, so-rry_! I guess I forgot my Darkness-Banishing Spectacles in my other robes!" Draco said somewhat sarcastically, lighting the tip of his wand with a huff as he stepped backwards off of his Head of House's boot and bumped against Sanguini's elbow accidentally, apologizing a bit more sincerely when Sanguini yelped with surprise.

"Another crack like that and I do believe it will be snack time." Severus snapped back, even though he had not been hungry with the Need ever since...Hermione….

Suddenly, his breath came shallow and labored and his chest felt tight as his mind replayed Garbor's betrayal. How he had not been struck dead by the Blood Oath was yet another mystery, but after seeing Bellatrix stab the ancient vampire in the back with nearly zero effect, Severus was beginning to believe that Garbor was hiding a very important part of the puzzle.

And he was determined to find out just what it was.

"Hurry up, Severus!" Sanguini called from further down the curved stone tunnel, and Severus swore under his breath as he snapped out of his reverie.

They came out through the darkness and into a wide tunnel that was set up like a muggle subway station, the expanse lit up with magical floating fairy lights set in old gas lamp fixtures. It was either very late or very early, but in any case, the station was utterly empty. A metal rail was set in a lowered divot at the end of the raised platform, and Draco, who had obviously never taken any sort of subterranean travel, glanced curiously at the pitch blackness of the tunnels at either end of the subway station.

"I don't see any sort of timetable." Severus said, his expression puzzled. He had never spent much time in the Underground, much less this particular station.

"Not to worry." Erheldt grinned and drew his wand, drawing a pentagram in the air as he mumbled some words.

"A pentagram? _Really_? And here I was, thinking that the vampire community in London was more...enlightened than that." Severus remarked dryly.

"Actually,' Sanguini said with a snicker, "It's actually a bit more of an inside joke. After seeing all of those ridiculous muggle movies equating vampirism with devil worship, we just couldn't resist setting a pentagram as the way to summon the cars."

"You see, Severus," Erheldt said affably, coming up behind Sanguini and kneading the the taller vampire's shoulders in an impromptu backrub, which had the effect of making Sanguini melt into his touch, purring like a cat, "Just because we no longer eat _conventional_ food does not mean that we no longer have a sense of humor. You might do well to remember that once in awhile."

"That _isn't_ what I meant!" Severus scoffed, crossing his arms again and turning to stand near the end of the platform away from the others muttering darkly to himself. "Besides, as far as I'm concerned, I cannot imagine anything being a laughing matter until Hermione is safe."

Draco made his way back from the other side of the station, his gray eyes looking back and forth between the two men as Erheldt embraced Sanguini from behind and promptly kissed him on the top of his head.

"So...er...you two are….?" Draco trailed off awkwardly.

"Yes." Erheldt said, amusement evident in his voice as Sanguini nuzzled against his tanned cheek. "We are _vampires_ , if you haven't already figured it out. But I promise that we won't bite...without your permission, of course."

He laughed, showing a quick flash of fang for Draco's benefit, and Draco flushed, looking away as the two touched noses before kissing one another softly.

"Er...ok." Draco said uncomfortably, obviously unused to displays of affection around himself.

"You oppose our relationship?" Sanguini asked, his eyes narrowing.

"No...it's not that...I just...even my parents were never really...touchy-feely with each other, at least not when I was around." Draco shrugged. "I'm not really used to seeing public displays of affection. I'd probably be unnerved even if you weren't... _vampires_."

A blast of hot air and rhythmatic click-clacking upon the silver rails signalled the arrival of the subway cars, which slid open quietly and stood as though waiting for its passengers.

"Come on, then." Severus said abruptly, stalking over the threshold. "Mind the gap, Draco."

"I have been on the Hogwarts Express a number of times." Draco scoffed. "I don't need to-SHITE!"

A rather large black rat had popped its head up through the small gap between the car and the platform just as Draco was about to step over it. With a yelp, Draco flew backwards and landed on his arse, scrambling back and away from the fuzzy little creature.

It chittered rather animatedly, shaking one little paw in the air as though scolding Draco for nearly squashing its face and then pulled its black bulk up and out of the crevice. It ran right for Erheldt and stopped abruptly at his feet, standing on its hind legs and wiggling its long whiskers back and forth before pulling a small folded square of parchment from a tiny pouch that had been secured to its underbelly with tiny straps and holding it upwards with tiny pink hands.

"What is…. _that_?" Draco's voice was shaking as he tried to recover from the shock of it.

Erheldt chuckled with amusement and took the small note, unfolding it and reading it quickly before pulling a small tin from his pocket and pulling out a small piece of cheese, handing it to the waiting rat. The rat squeaked with delight, its nose twitching with excitement at the offered reward and it sat there on its haunches devouring its treat by turning it around and taking tiny bites until it was gone. Then, with a gesture surprisingly similar to a bow, it turned and skittered back down into the crevice and disappeared.

"You, my dear boy, have owls. We, in the Underground, well...we have rats." Erheldt said, finally, stopping to offer Draco a hand and pulling him up in one graceful motion. "They are intelligent, loyal to those who treat them well, good workers, and, contrary to popular thought, they keep themselves surprisingly clean when given the facilities to do so. They can also travel to most places unseen."

"Speaking of _traveling_ ," Severus said testily, "I would appreciate it if you would stop dawdling so that we can continue on our journey forthwith!"

"Indubitably." Erheldt replied, smiling back with only a slight flash of fang as the doors closed behind him with a soft swishing sound.

"Well, the way things are going, your damned _rat_ is going to get there on foot before we do." Severus complained, sitting on the far side of the car with his arms and legs crossed as he stared anxiously out the window into the darkness of the tunnel beyond.

Sangini stood in the middle of the car holding onto one of the brace poles looking somewhat lost. Erheldt leaned over and whispered something to him while Draco simply flopped down onto one of the seats closest to the door and sat hunched over with his legs spread wide and his arms crossed. He rested his forehead against his forearms as though he were trying to sleep, but Severus could hear him muttering something under his breath and knew that this was not the case.

"In any case, what was in the important note?" Severus said, after a long pause.

"It was just a note from an old friend in the know confirming that Garbor has sent word ahead to prepare his dwelling in the city." Erheldt said cryptically, waving his hand as though the details were not important. "In any case, we should be there shortly, and all shall become clear."

They all sat in silence of various degrees of discomfort, from Severus and his deepening scowl as his stomach twisted with the unpleasant thoughts of what lay ahead to Draco whose head lolled in his lap and who he was rather certain had actually fallen asleep. Part of him wished that he could just leave the meddlesome brat on the subway, but that would not do, especially if its next passengers got peckish.

"Draco!" he said sharply, secretly getting a thrill of enjoyment when Draco's head shot up and he blinked blearily.

"Mhnnnnn...what?" Draco slurred, rubbing his eyes.

"Come here, boy. You will need to be made...suitable." Severus replied.

"What do you mean?" Draco replied suspiciously.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, we're on our way to a place that's full of individuals who will see you as a walking entree, so if you would like to avoid being treated like a free open buffet, then _come over here_." Severus replied irritably.

Draco stood up, grabbing one of the metal poles to steady himself as the subway car began to slow down for the approaching station. He made his way over gingerly and stopped next to Severus, looking up at the pale professor with slightly defiant, sleep-choked eyes.

"Quickly, now!" Severus said, allowing one of his fangs to extend down and over his lip on one side. "Now then, this won't hurt too badly, so hold still."

"What are you-?" Draco's eyes were widened with instant wariness.

"Foolish boy!" Severus said, lisping slightly as his fang got in the way of his words. "I'm not going to drain you dry. Now. Hold. _Still_!"

Draco turned his head to the side and Severus slipped one of his fangs into Draco's throat, allowing only a tiny amount of venom to enter Draco's bloodstream. It would be enough to mark him as "taken" unless Severus gave permission to do otherwise, yet it wasn't a full dose of the venom that would turn Draco into a mindless Rennie begging to be bitten like a lovestruck vampire groupie.

Draco's pupils dilated slightly as the venom hit his bloodstream, and he turned and looked at Severus with a slightly wonderfilled look, but then it seemed to pass with a quick shake of his head and he was back to his old defiant self again.

"Um... _thanks_...I guess." Draco muttered, looking away.

"Don't get used to it." Severus snapped back. "It was a matter of life or death. It will not happen again. The effects should last long enough for us to complete our objective."

The subway car came to a smooth stop and the doors swished open silently.

"Well, here goes nothing." Draco said with a backward glance at Severus as he stepped through the threshold into the station.

There weren't many other vampires about, but a few heads still turned when Erheldt stepped out onto the platform holding Sanguini's hand. Severus brought up the rear of the party and was summarily ignored, which was exactly how he liked it.

Draco was looking up at the words painted in gold over the archway that led up the stairs and out of the station.

"' _So it is above, so it shall be below_.'" He read aloud, the puzzlement evident in his voice. "What do they mean by that?"

"You shall see, young one." Erheldt said, his voice silky and full of power as he nuzzled Sanguini one final time before they began to climb the stairs. "You shall see."

Draco's expression was caught between wonder and trepidation as he climbed the stairs behind the Erheldt and Sanguini. Severus merely snorted at Erheldt's showboating and hoped that there wouldn't be much more to their journey. He was looking forward to personally seeing to Garbor's undoing even as his stomach twisted with unease at how easily the ancient vampire had seemingly shaken off a Blood Oath with no apparent ill effects.

Still, if Severus had learned anything from being under Voldemort's boot for over a decade, it was that those who seemed impossibly strong were often more vulnerable than they knew.

He only hoped that this time he was right.


	41. Chapter 41

**Author's Note:** **I'm sorry for the delay, but it's been somewhat hectic around here, and I'm working on my submission for the QLFC (shoutout to Corvus for helping me pare down that beast of a story), so it's been tough. It doesn't help that I've been suffering from a bad case of Dead Brain lately, though a bit of extra sleep (hah, sleep? What's that?) has helped a bit. Unfortunately, there's a bit of...not so happy sexy stuff in this chapter, so I'm posting a TW in this note. I'll insert a horizontal line (the one after this upcoming horizontal line just FYI) before you get to it so you don't have to read past the triggery parts if you don't want to. So yeah. Garbor is a bastard. But then again, we already knew that, didn't we?**

* * *

 **Chapter 41: A Gilded Cage**

Hermione felt as though a massive boulder was pressing hard against her chest. She struggled to move her body, but her arms and legs seemed frozen. Even breathing was difficult until she remembered that she didn't exactly need to breathe like a regular person.

"Ah, good. You're awake."

The voice immediately set her teeth on edge and she could feel the twin points of her fangs digging slightly into her lower lip.

"Come now, don't be like that. We both know you're just pretending to be asleep now. Just open your eyes. I promise I won't bite."

Hermione opened her eyes and glared at the vampire sitting across from her. Garbor was sitting in a rather over-stuffed red velvet chair, one leg crossed over the other as he sat with his fingers steepled in front of his lips.

"You're one creepy bastard, watching me sleeping like that!" Hermione hissed, trying to move her legs and arms to no avail.

"Don't bother struggling." Garbor replied mildly, pretending to inspect his fingernails. "I've got you all nice and secured. Wouldn't want you accidentally falling out of the bed and hurting your precious cargo."

He stood and approached the bed, lifting up the fitted sheet that had been tucked up to Hermione's neck, revealing a silver bodice that covered Hermione's body from her collarbones down to her ribcage, leaving her uncovered from the waist down. Small circular hoops were welded into the sides and attached to silver manacles that were attached to Hermione's wrists. Hermione tried to move them as she craned her neck to the side, but all she could do was wiggle them slightly against a soft, silky material, which seemed to be inside of the metal.

"They're lined with selkie pelts so it won't burn your skin, but yes, they are made of pure silver. Very rare and expensive. Also very luxurious, don't you think?" Garbor said as though he was doing Hermione a favor, stroking a hand over the silver. "I've even secured your ankles to the bed posts for extra... _safety_. So, as you can see, you're quite secure for the duration of your... _usefulness_."

Hermione grinned cruelly as the skin on his fingers began to blacken and steam. Garbor's icy blue eyes flashed and he sneered, pulling his fingers away and shaking them out for a few moments. Then, he held up his hand and smiled wickedly. His skin was immaculate once more.

"You monster…" she gasped as she tried to struggle against her bonds.

"You're one to talk," he replied with a snort. "You and your scrawny little _Animavinculum_. You two are freaks, even by vampire standards."

"What the hell are you on about?" Hermione retorted, trying to disguise her curiosity.

Sanguini had said that the Animavinculum was so rare that it was nearly unknown. But Garbor seemed to know about it as well.

"Oh, you _would_ like to know, wouldn't you?" Garbor replied, his eyes going half-lidded as he reached down and lifted her chin with one finger, his other hand sliding down her stomach and pressing slightly against her navel as she flinched and tried to pull away from his touch. "Well, seeing as we'll have a nice, long period of time to get to know each other more intimately than you probably ever imagined...well...let's just say that I'm more interested in compliance and damage control while I focus on more _pressing_ matters."

He bent down and brought his nose against hers.

"What-?" Hermione exclaimed, trying to pull back from him with shock at his sudden closeness.

"Look into my eyes, Hermione." Garbor rumbled, his voice lowering almost a full octave.

Hermione tried to turn her head, but he wrenched her chin up with his fingers and held it there in a vice-like grip, so she shut her eyes tightly.

* * *

"Playing hard to get, are we? Perhaps you are in the mood for a little _activity_. I promise that it will be _eye-opening_." he chuckled cruelly, and she could feel his weight shift the mattress as he pressed his knee into it. She shuddered as his fingers slipped down her belly and came to rest on her pubic mound momentarily before slipping two of his fingers inside of her.

He eyes flew open as she gasped with shock and his eyes were over hers, pulsing with power. She tried to fight back, pull up mental shields, but without her wand and weakened by the proximity of the silver, she was unable to put up much of a fight.

"Good girl." Garbor purred, rubbing inside of her more quickly and trailing circles around her labia with his thumb as her eyes glazed over and became as flat and blank as a doll's.

Hermione screamed with impotent rage in her mind, but she was trapped deep inside of her head. Her body was reacting without her mind's consent, and when his ministrations finally brought her body to orgasm, she went numb with revulsion even as her body pulsed at the forced pleasure.

* * *

"Very delicious." he said, licking his fingers slowly in front of her. "I shall enjoy bending you to my will completely. For is it not true that, in order to build something of beauty, one must first break down and destroy the ugly thing that was there before? Soon you shall beg for my touch, even without my power forcing your compliance. It is so much more challenging to break the mind than the body, don't you think?"

Hermione was silent.

"Much better." Garbor continued, stroking her hair and pulling the covers back over her body as though tucking her in. "Now, excuse me while I continue with my plans to dispose of your mate once and for all. And Sanguini cannot be allowed to live anymore now that I have what I want. You, of course, are quite useful for growing my future mate, for a god requires a goddess to rule by his side, and I can't have any goddess wife of mine growing up with a mind of her own. Don't worry, I'll be patient and wait until she reaches her majority. Anything else would be highly improper, after all. It simply won't do. I still cannot decide what I shall do once I have no more need of you. I do suppose that depends on how well you perform. Will you beg for my cock on all fours like a dog? I suppose that you might be a fun little pet to keep around in the meantime. I may even buy you a collar! Wouldn't that be fun?"

Hermione said nothing. Even if she had wanted to, her mouth was frozen even though she could still hear Garbor clearly and her sight felt as though she were looking down the end of a telescope.

He leaned in close to her ear, then.

"I will give you back your mind and your voice when I take you for the first time." he whispered menacingly. "I want to hear the sound of you breaking apart underneath me."

He drew away, not seeming to notice the tear that had welled in her right eye.

"Alas, there are many preparations to be made." he said flippantly, his tone and demeanor casual once more. "After all, I hear that some uninvited guests may very well be on their way now, and what sort of host would I be if I didn't prepare to receive them?"

With that, he strode from the room, closing the door behind him, and Hermione could hear several keys clicking in locks as he shut her in.

She was certain that he did not hear the deep sigh of relief that came from her mouth once the sound of his receding steps finally faded away.


	42. Chapter 42

**Author's Note:** So, as you can probably tell, the site has been down for almost three days! I was planning on posting this when everything went down. Anyway, so glad to post this one. After all, I love writing snark.

* * *

 **Chapter 42: Breaking and Entering**

"You want me to do WHAT?" Draco exclaimed, his eyes wide.

"My thoughts exactly." Severus muttered, staring daggers at Erheldt, who merely chuckled as though he'd just heard a rather humorous joke.

"I told you that he would be useful." Erheldt said with a shrug. "This is, as you say, merely the _how_."

"This is ludicrous!" Severus growled, his fangs slipping past his upper lip in a snarl. "I told her that I would keep her safe and I failed! _I_ should be the one rescuing her, not...a _student_."

" _Hey_!" Draco whined, looking hurt. "You know that I'm a right talented wizard for my age!"

"The operative words being _for your age_!" Severus rumbled back. "I know ten times the spells _and_ worked as a spy for the Dark Lord for over a decade. Surely we should not leave our rescue mission to a spoiled brat with a penchant for dating homicidal maniacs!"

"To be fair, Pansy only ever _attempted_ to kill you. And, as you are standing right here arguing with me, it's plain that she did a piss poor job of it." Draco retorted with a sniff.

"She's not the first to _try_ and kill me, and she won't be the last!" Severus snarled back, looming over Draco until he nearly fell backwards.

"Of that, I have no doubt." Erheldt said with a deep, rumbling chuckle as Draco shot Severus a defiant look.

"If you all must argue, can't you do it more quietly?" Sanguini hissed, looking around nervously, "We must keep our voices down, just in case we are heard!"

They were all squeezed into the front parlor in a small apartment that Erheldt kept in the Underground. It was not lavishly furnished, but it still undoubtedly had an ambiance that suited the ancient vampire. Severus was obviously agitated, and refused to sit down, pacing the floor and tapping his feet, wringing his hands and fidgeting incessantly until everyone else began to look uneasy.

"We are waiting for the messenger to arrive." Erheldt said. "Until then, we wait."

Draco stalked away from Severus and looked out the window. The night sky twinkled above them, though he knew it was charmed to look that way much like the ceiling in the Great Hall. He had learned rather quickly that, while the vampire community of London enjoyed their Underground version of the city, they also did their best to create the illusion that they were not underground at all. There were impossibly tall buildings and even a strangely accurate sized replica of Big Ben, though it was not in the same location as the original. Draco looked out into the large plaza below them and watched the people moving under the gas lamplight. There were street performers, couples lounging on park benches and even a fountain charmed with tiny fairy lights that made the water seem to glow in rainbow colors. The only difference was that everyone in the plaza was either a vampire or a Rennie. It was not nearly as noticeable due to the permanent night that stretched across the sky, but there was one other oddity.

There were no children.

"So, then, is it really true that vampires cannot have children of their own?" Draco asked.

"This is true." Sanguini said, joining Draco at the window. "However, there are some vampires who were Changed as children, either accidentally or purposefully by exploitative vampires who were selling them to... _perverts_."

Draco paled, imagining the full implication of Sanguini's words.

"That's _disgusting_!" he sputtered.

Sanguini nodded sagely.

"In the past, any children Changed into vampires were often destroyed as well as their vile makers." Sanguini said sadly. "At the time, it was considered a kindness, as most children are unable to hunt or properly assert themselves in vampire society. Luckily, my work with the Little Vamps Home and Dumbledore's assistance in the Ministry has gone a long way in helping YA or Youth Appearing vampires take their place in vampire society."

"But...didn't that Gerber guy say something about...er…" Draco trailed off, looking uncomfortably at Severus.

"Well aren't I the fool for thinking that you were actually unconscious?!" Severus snapped, the color rising in his cheeks.

"Well...I _was_ unconscious until the very end." Draco scoffed sarcastically. " _Excuse me_ for being rather _drained_ after a vicious vampire attack! It's not as though I could exactly stop myself from being attacked from behind!"

"You're a bloody _Slytherin_!" Severus shouted. "You're _supposed_ to be good at avoiding sneak attacks!"

"Well, apparently you were too busy turning Hermione into a vampire and knocking her up to teach me that lesson, _Professor_!" Draco sneered back.

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK OR I'LL-!" Severus advanced upon Draco menacingly with his wand at the ready, his face twisted with rage and grief.

Draco paled and ducked behind Sanguini, who held out his arms to either side and stared down the vampire he'd sired so many years ago.

"That is quite enough, Severus!" Sanguini said sharply. "You're not going to save her by hexing the stuffing out of Draco!"

Severus froze and seemed to deflate a bit before turning and sheathing his wand, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Yeah, but it would make _me_ feel better."

"He does have a point, though." Draco said miserably. "I can't turn into a bat and fly to high, unreachable places. I don't have inhuman strength. And while I really am quite good at both offensive and defensive spellwork in battle, I imagine that going on with wands blazing is not part of the plan."

"This may be true," Erheldt said, materializing behind Draco out of nowhere and smirking when Draco nearly jumped out of his skin. "But you offer one thing that none of us can."

"A rather gamey meal with a side of overinflated ego?" Severus said grumpily from the blue velvet chair on the other side of the room.

"Simple." Erheldt chuckled, patting Draco's shoulder. "Draco is unexpected. Our kind sees humans, even those who wield magic, as prey...or, as you so aptly put it, _food_. They will underestimate him. They will not even expect him to be here, especially since it is well known that humans despise vampires for our long lives and our power."

"Yeah, well, I still can't flap my wings and fly like Professor Dungeon Bat over there." Draco said dismally.

"Nonsense!" Erheldt said, clucking his tongue. "You merely need the correct tools to do so."

The ancient vampire pulled out his wand and made a twisted motion with it. Moments later, a broom floated in through the doorway and Draco's eyes widened.

"Is that…?" Draco gasped.

"I'm somewhat of a broom aficionado, though I don't usually ride them." Erheldt said, stroking the bristles of the broom with pride." But yes, this is a Cumulonimbus 6750. One of only a handful made for private distribution."

Draco eyed the handsome silver engravings that lined the broom handle, creating swirls of runic power to increase speed, durability and improve upon turning radius.

"It's...beautiful…" Draco said in awe.

"Garbor's home has twenty floors, and his penthouse is at the top. I imagine that he will want to keep his captive close by." Erheldt continued, looking darkly out the window as though he could see the very building from it even though it was actually in the opposite direction.

"But won't there be some sort of defense in place to stop vampires from trying to get in?" Draco asked.

"Yes. But the operative word is _vampires_." Sanguini replied. "Garlic wards around the windows may keep _us_ from flying up there, but to you it shall be a mere olfactory nuisance."

Draco nodded, his eyes widening as Erheldt casually handed the broom to him.

"We are counting on you to get in and get out with her as quickly as possible. Stealth and silence is a must." Erheldt said, as Sanguini nodded in agreement.

"I won't let you down, I swear!" Draco said, his gray eyes full of fire.

It was then that all of them realized that the rather large black rat from earlier had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and was standing on its hind legs in the middle of the floor squeaking loudly to get their attention.

"Ah yes, my small friend," Erheldt said bending down on one knee and placing his hand palm up on the floor so that the rat could scurry onto it. "Have you gathered the information that I requested?"

The rat squeaked rather smugly and pulled a small parchment from its tiny messenger bag. Erheldt tapped it with his wand and it enlarged immediately. Inside was a very rough map of a building with ten floors. A circle was drawn on the upper left side in red ink.

"Impressive!" he exclaimed, setting the rat gently onto the couch and pulling the small tin of cheese from his breast pocket once more.

This time, he chose a rather large piece of cheese, giving it to the rat for its troubles. The dark-furred creature squeaked happily and its eyes squinted upwards in half-circles of pleasure as it made quick work of the tasty treat.

"Don't tell me that it drew _that_!?" Draco asked incredulously.

In response, the rat pulled a tiny quill pen from its bag and waved it back and forth as though scolding Draco.

"Blimey!" Draco exclaimed, backing away slowly with a shocked expression on his face.

"Please, Draco, do not insult the intelligence of our diminutive guest." Erheldt said graciously. "For now we know exactly which part of the building you will need to focus on to retrieve Hermione."

"May we _finally_ go now?" Severus said, standing abruptly and turning on the others with a scowl. "Having to sit here on my bony arse while Hermione is left at the mercy of that... _bastard_...is more torturous than the Cruciatus curse!"

"All in good time, Severus." Erheldt replied mildly. "But first, I think it may be prudent for Draco to practice some of his spellwork, specifically his Disillusionment spells and ways to bind and disarm. And who better to practice with than yourself, wouldn't you agree?"

Severus turned to face Draco, a wicked smirk spreading across his thin lips, and though he had not yet drawn his wand, Draco took a step back, blind panic welling up in his eyes.

"It would be my... _pleasure_." Severus said, his voice full of unsaid things that made Draco gulp loudly as he drew his wand with a shaky hand.

"I..I…" Draco sputtered as Sanguini backed away with Erheldt, who took the broom from Draco for safekeeping.

"Prepare yourself, Mr. Malfoy!" Severus hissed, his voice full of venom, and before Draco could move, Severus had drawn his wand and Draco was lying flat on his back on the floor seeing stars floating around his head.

"Ughhhhh," he groaned, bringing his hands over his eyes.

"Get. Up." Severus was nudging his leg with a black boot.

Draco stood, his body swaying.

"Again." Severus said, his mouth drawn in a thin line.

Moments later, Draco was back on his arse, blinking as the afterimage of a Stunning spell danced across his field of vision.

" _Up_. Again." Severus said, almost bored now.

Draco groaned, but pulled himself up and stood at attention just to be knocked down again and again until his body screamed for rest.

" _AGAIN_!" Severus snarled, pulling Draco up forcefully by the wrist.

But, little by little, Draco began to get better at blocking, and though it pained him to say it, he was actually rather proud to be facing off against a version of Severus Snape who had obviously taken off the kid gloves and was hitting him with full-strength hexes.

Some time later, Erheldt nodded approvingly as Draco deflected four sequential hexes in a row while maintaining a Disillusion spell.

"I think that he's finally ready." Sanguini said, obviously pleased.

Severus snorted derisively, his hair hanging lank and greasier than ever as sweat dripped down his face from all of his exertion.

"It will do for now." Severus said, pulling out two small vials and tossing one to Draco. "Here. Drink."

Draco sighed and drank the entire Pepperup Potion in one gulp, feeling the aches and pains recede almost instantly.

" _Now_ ," Severus said darkly, turning to stare at Erheldt with an intensity bordering on hysterical. "We shall go or I fear that I shall go mad!"

Erheldt nodded and handed the broom to Draco, who gulped loudly.

"It is, as you say, _show time_ ," Erheldt said, cracking his knuckles together.

Moments later, three bats flew from Erheldt's window into the artificial night followed by the shimmering form of Draco as he flew silently on his broom, their minds focused on the rescue mission ahead.


	43. Chapter 43

Author's Note: So happy September! Happy, melt-your-flesh-from-your-bones-unseasonably-hot September! As you can tell, my brain plus heat all day and night leads to lagging on story updates. This is especially because I've grown rather attached to this story and don't want to give you any less than the very best content. And believe me, this chapter is very, very full of... _content_. So, strap yourself to your phone or laptop, put on your cookie eating hat and grab the popcorn from the microwave because it's time for us to go….

* * *

 **Chapter 43: A Rat, a Trap and a Rescue- Oh My!**

As the hours dragged on, Hermione had to admit that, other than the horrible... _thing_...Garbor had done to her earlier, being kidnapped (or was it vampire-napped?) was actually rather boring. Even though she had no wand and her bonds were silver and therefore held her mostly immobile, her mind was still free to think and scheme about what she might be able to do, how she might be able to escape.

She could take the time to be traumatized later. She needed to focus on how to survive, first.

Mentally, she started doing inventory of the things she knew and the things she might be able to work in her favor.

 _Well, first off, Garbor doesn't seem to see me as a threat since I'm newly Changed and, for more sexist reasons, female. That is his first mistake. Secondly, he wants something that only I can make. This means that he's not going to kill me or mortally wound me unless he has no other choice._

Her thoughts were still rather morbid, as she could tell that Garbor was a fan of using rape and sexual coercion to force female compliance if his disgusting display earlier was any indication.

He obviously had never met a woman like Hermione Granger. She could be a terrifyingly convincing actress, if her cruelly creative method of ending the reign of Dolores Umbridge was any indication. She knew the benefit of appearing weak until she was finally within striking distance.

Still, she knew that if she was indeed growing some kind of god-like entity in her womb, Garbor would not harm her enough to kill her while she was still playing the dutiful incubator, even if her first attempt failed. She was, however, concerned about how little she knew of him, of his methods. It was almost certain that he had been directly behind Musette's death and Hermione could tell that he deeply regretted it only because it had forced him to continue his search.

Or maybe not. Something still didn't seem to add up, but Hermione didn't know what it could be. The not knowing was driving her mad, and without the ability to move much more than her head, she was finding herself trapped in a low-grade form of torture as every little itch made itself known upon her skin and she groaned with the desire to scratch them.

It was then that she heard a soft, squeaking noise, like the sound of a foot on the floor and she tensed instinctively, her body terrified at the thought of Garbor's horrid hands upon her once more.

But when she turned her head to look, she saw at once that she'd been wrong.

A black rat was sitting on its haunches, its nose wiggling manically at her as it stared with dark, impassive eyes.

Hermione was not a fan of rats. After Scabbers, she was automatically suspicious every time she saw one, and for good reason. Scabbers had turned out to be directly responsible for over twenty deaths and had been integral in resurrecting Voldemort.

She also knew that rats had a habit of eating anything, even if it was still alive.

The rat seemed to make a silent decision and went down on all fours, running towards the bed where she lay. She could hear the soft snagging sounds of its claws as it climbed up the duvet.

A strange, animal fear gripped her and she considered screaming, but then her mind flashed back to Garbor's fingers sliding down her thigh and she bit her tongue to hold back the scream that was threatening to burst from her mouth.

The rat was standing next to her head, now and she looked at it defiantly, willing herself to stay silent.

It was then that she noticed the small messenger bag that it wore and her fear abruptly turned to curiosity. It rubbed its nose and whiskers, grooming its furry face in a surprisingly adorable manner before reaching into the messenger bag and pulling out a piece of folded parchment. It unfolded the paper quickly and then held it up to Hermione so she could read it with a tiny series of snuffled squeaks.

"Um...I don't mean to trouble you, but could you please turn it around?" Hermione asked politely, "You see, the words are upside down, which makes it rather difficult to read."

The rat looked around the edge of the paper and saw that Hermione was indeed correct. It did the tiniest facepalm that Hermione had ever seen and she was barely able contain a snort of laughter as it turned the paper around, squeaking loudly in what she imagined were the rat version of a long string of expletives.

"Dear Hermione," she read quietly, "Gave directions for Stanley here to find you. Be ready. Soon. Sooner, if your grumpy git of a mate has anything to say about it. Be strong. The wingless dragon comes for you."

It wasn't signed, but she knew that it was probably Erheldt. His manner of writing was irritatingly similar to his speech patterns.

Still, her heart surged at the mention of Severus, even though Erheldt had obviously gone out of his way to refer to the dark wizard in an intentionally insulting manner.

But a glance at the garlic that hung around the windows and the silver that bound her was enough to deflate her momentary surge of hope. After all, Garbor was a vampire as well, though he did not seem to be affected by many of the traditional vampire repellents. He would know how to keep others of his kind out.

"But what does he mean by _the wingless dragon_?" Hermione wondered aloud.

Stanley the rat peered around the side of the note and made a chirping noise that sounded almost like a question.

"Yes, I've finished reading, thank you," Hermione replied tiredly.

She hated being useless, but Garbor had prepared well, and she hadn't even known he existed while he'd apparently known about her for days.

Stanley squeaked sharply and crumpled up the paper into a ball between his paws and then grabbed it by his teeth, quickly running it over to the fire and tossing it in like a miniature fuzzy basketball player. Then, he pulled out what looked like a tiny piece of blank parchment and a tiny quill and began to draw something, though she couldn't see from where she lay exactly what it was. Hermione found herself rather endeared to him by this point and decided that he was the only exception to her general dislike of rodents.

"You're very good at your job, you know that, don't you?" She asked him as he folded the parchment up and put it back into his bag before scurrying back over to the floor by the bed. He looked up at her while standing in a rather human-like manner on his haunches. "I shall be certain to give you a large wheel of cheese once all of this is over!"

Stanley chirp-squeaked, his little eyes going half-closed with delight at Hermione's words and he nodded his head before turning and pulling up the loose floorboard he'd crawled under to get into the room. It popped back into place with a gentle creak and Hermione felt a sense of sadness wash over her as the faint sound of tiny feet receded until there was only silence.

She only hoped that Erheldt's version of _soon_ was the same as her own.

* * *

"This is a terrible idea."

"You merely think it's a terrible idea, because it is not _your_ idea, Severus." Erheldt sniffed as his knuckles hovered over the door.

" _That_ , and it's also just a _terrible_ idea!" Severus replied, sneering fiercely at Erheldt's back. "Tell me, Erheldt, were you a Gryffindor back when you were still alive? Because something tells me that even Godric Gryffindor himself would have considered you a bit too brash."

Erheldt smiled darkly, flashing a tiny hint of fang.

"The one thing Garbor will not expect is for us to force the issue in an official capacity," he said, rapping his knuckles loudly against the thick, heavy wood, "It does leave us vulnerable, but then again, no good plan is without its vulnerabilities."

"And every terrible plan has far too many!" Severus hissed back, going abruptly silent as the door opened. Sanguini turned as though to say something to the younger vampire, but Severus merely held his hand up as his eyes went flat and dull and Sanguini turned back, saying nothing.

"Please, Master Garbor is expecting you in the parlor." A tall, thin female vampire with closely cropped black hair who was wearing a very low-cut evening gown held the door wide and gestured down the hallway with her hand.

The three vampires stepped through the threshold silently, none of them showing any sign of reacting when the heavy door swung shut behind them.

There was only one way to go.

Onward.

* * *

Draco would never, in a million years, have imagined that he would be part of a rescue mission that involved flying on a rare, absurdly expensive broom through an underground vampire city with an abnormally intelligent rat as his navigator. Part of his mind was still reeling with disbelief.

He flew high enough that the people on the sidewalks below appeared to be as tiny as ants and swooped down to the top floor of the tall building with no issues, flying lazily around the perimeter until a tiny squeak alerted him to one particular window that was pretty much the same as the others.

"This is it, eh?" Draco said, looking at the window dubiously.

It was closed, so it was obvious that he couldn't fly through without breaking it, and besides, upon closer inspection, it was latched from the inside. Draco thought of using Alohomora, but then decided against it. After all, he still had no idea what sorts of wards were raised on the building.

"Besides," he said, pulling the rat from his chest pocket gently, "something tells me that you want to help too, don't you?"

He cancelled the Disillusionment spell and held the broom incredibly still so that the rat (Stanley, he reminded himself; Erheldt had told him the little creature's name), could crawl down its length and get to the windowsill. There was no balcony to speak of, but a tiny flower box filled with Moonflowers was attached to the underside of the windowsill, so it was easy for Stanley to crawl down, take a rather dignified looking dive into the flower box and surface moments later, nose in the air as he searched for a rat-sized way in.

It only took the diminutive daredevil a few minutes to find his way inside. In the meantime, Draco looked at the various measures that had been put into place to keep the vampiricly-inclined from getting inside. Garlic bulbs were strung on the outside of the window as well as what looked like a couple of worrying blood wards. Draco hadn't been prepared to break those. However, Stanley seemed not to suffer any ill effects from crossing them, so Draco hoped that he would be similarly safe.

In anticipation of helping Hermione escape, he knocked the garlic free with a well-timed Slicing Hex and turned abruptly to face the window when he heard it slide open. Stanley was standing there, tiny paws pressing the wooden frame looking rather smug for a small animal without the ability to mimic human expressions.

"Ok, ok, steal the show, why don't you?" Draco quipped, but his tone wasn't unkind.

He passed slowly through the window on the broom, crouching down as flat as he could get. There was a slight tingle in the tip of his nose as he passed through the wards, but nothing else seemed to happen. He had to admit that it was actually rather similar to being Seeker on Slytherin, and he was rather glad for the tight handling when he found himself nearly barreling into the opposite wall. Instead, he stopped so quickly that he ended up hanging by his hands from the broom for a moment. Looking down, he saw a fluffy duvet and allowed himself to drop down onto it.

He immediately regretted his decision.

Not only did he slam against something rather hard and unyielding right in a place where hard and unyielding objects were most unwelcome, but he also heard a very loud and Hermione-like "OOF" issue from underneath him followed by a rather irritated "Are you bloody trying to _kill_ me, Malfoy?!"

Great. Two seconds into his rescue mission and he'd already royally bungled it up.

"Well how was I supposed to know you were hiding under-gwahhh!?" He groused, rolling to his right and misjudging the remaining amount of bed. He landed on the floor with a loud and undignified squeak, feeling his face burn with humiliation as Hermione laughed huskily from the bed and tried to catch her breath.

Draco rolled into his back and stared at the ceiling until it stopped spinning.

"So," he said, somewhat more sharply than he'd intended to sound, "I hear that you've...changed thanks to...well... _him_?"

Hermione sighed deeply.

"You know, I would much rather talk about this after you get me out of this stupid silver shite," Hermione replied pointedly, "though, to be honest, even if circumstances were different, that's a rather personal question, especially for someone I don't particularly consider a friend."

"I...I had hoped..." Draco's voice trailed off and he had to blink slowly to stop the stinging in his eyes.

"I had fun with you at the concert, Draco, I really did!" Hermione said, her voice kind, "but that doesn't make us instant best friends. That sort of thing only happens if you save someone from a mountain troll."

"What about saving someone from a terrifying, ancient vampire?" Draco asked, pulling himself up to his knees and turning to look at Hermione, whose head was the only thing visible at the top of the duvet.

Hermione smirked.

"I suppose that could work in a pinch."

Draco pulled the duvet down to her navel and his eyes narrowed as he inspected the silver bodice and arm shackles.

"You weren't kidding when you said it was silver..." Draco trailed off, looking at Hermione's state of undress and blushing when he realized that she was probably not wearing anything else.

"Draco! Focus!" Hermione hissed back, and his cheeks went even darker with embarrassment at having been distracted.

He felt a momentary warmth against his fingers when he touched the material, but it dissipated quickly.

"It looks like I'll have to aim a couple of targeted Slicing Hexes here and here in the seams of the metal," he remarked with a voice as full of clinical detachment as he could muster, pointing to the areas in question. "It also looks like the arm shackles are held in place with tiny padlocks, but breaking those shouldn't be much of a problem."

"There are ankle shackles too," Hermione said, her voice somewhat insistent as she glanced towards the door even though there hadn't been any noise to suggest that someone was coming.

"Right." Draco glanced down but then shook his head. "We'll take care of those last."

He stood, then and walked out of Hermione's range of vision.

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked, her voice filling with an edge of dread that Draco had never heard before.

"Well, I can't rescue you without getting you clothed first," Draco said, his voice muffled as he opened the doors to the walk in closet he'd seen from his vantage point on the floor. "Besides, Snape would kill me. And I'm only _somewhat_ confident that it wouldn't be a literal killing."

Hermione snorted despite herself and Draco found the hint of a smile playing across his own lips.

He grabbed a couple of things that looked relatively easy to put on and backed out of the closet, turning around and dumping everything on the foot of the bed.

"All right, then," he said, his face scrunched into a mask of concentration, "let's see about those arm manacles first."

Hermione sighed and in that moment, Draco was rather glad that he had an arduous task ahead to distract him from how his heart still thudded involuntarily whenever he caught her looking at him.

Even though he knew it was futile and stupid.

It was a shame that his heart refused to listen.


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44: Mind Games**

"Ah, yes. I have been expecting you."

The sound of Garbor's voice was that of a distinguished host but Severus knew better. He could practically smell the afterimage of Hermione's fear on the ancient vampire's hands. It was all he could do to remain seated at the table, his fingers digging into his thigh as he stifled his rage.

 _What has that bastard been doing to her?_

Garbor smiled without showing his fangs, his scarlet suit flattering his well-built body, and took a seat at the head of the table. Unlike the other chairs in the room, Garbor's chair had intricately carved wooden arms and a rather plush cherry-red leather upholstery. He appeared the epitome of sophistication even though all of the red was a bit off putting. The woman who had led them into the room bowed politely and left the room.

"Now then, I trust the journey over wasn't too difficult, yes?"

He was met with blank stares and silence. As the minutes went on with no one saying anything at all, the atmosphere in the room quickly became rather strained indeed.

It seemed somewhat ironic that they were all seated in the dining room around an onyx table that had been prepared with a crisp white tablecloth and full dinner setting, especially considering that their primary source of nutrition was best served fresh and from the source.

But the only blood Severus wished to see pouring out was Garbor's.

His fangs dug into his lower lip painfully as he imagined tearing out the ancient vampire's throat.

"I see you are all wondering how I was able to sidestep your silly little blood oath." Garbor said, finally, his smug grin widening as Severus finally couldn't stand it any longer and shot a withering glare at him.

"Garbor, you must admit that it was in rather poor taste," Erheldt said, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly, "after all, it is rather dishonorable to break a promise, yes?"

"There are some reasons that preclude honor, Erheldt," Garbor replied with a haughty sniff, "and besides, you're one to talk with the way you've shirked your duties. Why, you've had ample opportunity to carry out your kill order and yet, here the condemned sits, less than five feet away from you! I must say, I never thought I'd see the day you went soft. Have you lost your fangs too?"

"Now, you see here-" Sanguini started, but froze at the predatory look that had twisted Garbor's face until he looked almost inhuman.

Severus began to feel a horrible sense of déjà vu remembering a very similar scene played out with the Dark Lord and Lucius.

"I'm sorry," Garbor said in a tone of voice that was anything but sorry, "but exactly when did our honored Council decisions become subject to popular vote? I chose you, Erheldt, because you have an impeccable record, and you have disappointed me instead. You know our laws. You know our ways. This... _sorry excuse for a vampire_ isn't even an active part of our world. Why take pity on him?"

"I did not take pity on the man," Erheldt rumbled, a surge of power pouring from until the air filled with an unnatural chill, "I merely spent the merest of moments discovering the truth, which is more than you can say for your hastily written and poorly executed letter authorizing the kill. He was incapacitated and forced to give of his blood. There is ample precedent that holds our kind innocent of wrongdoing when a vile human forces themselves upon a vampire."

"Am I to believe that this human just happened to have silver on hand to trap him?" Garbor replied angrily, standing abruptly and slamming his fist on the table. "Hah! Don't make me laugh! Perhaps it is his sick proclivity to be tied up while he sires!"

"You know that he has bonded with his _Animavinculum_. The shock wave could be felt all the way up in certain parts of Iceland and all the way down to the northern tip of Spain from what I've heard! He would want no other once the bond was cemented!" Sanguini shouted, his voice shaking with rage.

"Oh?" Garbor said, as though finally realizing that Sanguni existed, "And do you have any evidence that this so-called _Animavinculum_ exists? You're trapped in the past, you sad excuse for a vampire. Just because Musette was important to you doesn't mean that she was anything special. Even if such a thing is real, you're delusional if you think that the only vampire you ever sired afterwards could also achieve it as well!"

"How can you dare to speak her name?!" Sanguini shouted, standing and steadying himself with one hand on the table. "I know it was _you_ , official facts be damned! All your fault that she's dead..."

"I see that there is no reasoning with you." Garbor replied, sitting down suddenly, all emotion wiped from his face as he examined his fingernails idly. "Very well."

His wand was in his hand almost instantly and thick, silver strings slid down from the ceiling like marionette strings, twisting around the bodies of the three vampires before they could move from their seats. Severus and Garbor had their wands in hand under the table, but Sanguini, who had been far too upset to draw his before the strings froze their bodies, was wandless.

"Now, then, if you won't do as I say, then I shall be forced to use _alternative methods_ to get my way." Garbor smirked, a triumphant chuckle escaping his lips. "It is a good thing that your child shall be a girl, or I'd be forced to do a bit of _creative_ surgery, ehehehehe…"

Severus tried to point his wand at Garbor's head, but his body felt frozen, even though the wires were thin. They seemed to stick into his skin like long threads

Garbor turned as though to leave but at the last moment, he paused, seeming to think better of it.

"But first, before you all meet your collective ends, I would like to tell you all a little story so that the short time you have left is filled with far more impotent misery than you ever believed was humanly possible."

Severus glanced over at Erheldt, whose eyes betrayed a look of absolute horror as Garbor paced back and forth at the head of the table.

"You see, you are quite correct about your little Musette. Oh, I doubted it at first, as I've only ever known of it happening once before...but then she was indeed with child, and I knew...I knew then that I had to have her."

"You _killed_ her! She was weeks away from giving birth to our son and you killed her!" Sanguini cried out, his voice hollow with grief.

"True, but I didn't want to do it." Garbor replied, his voice growing irritated, "She forced my hand when she refused to get rid of the brat. I have no use for a boy, after all."

"What the hell are you on about?" Sanguini roared.

"You see, I know of the _Animavinculum_ because my parents were _Animavinculum_. Well, at least, they _were_ before I killed them. After all, it wouldn't do to have siblings who might try to usurp me. Oh, come now. Your looks of surprise are tiresome. I spent thousands of years trying to keep the knowledge of it hidden and destroyed what I could, but obviously it wasn't good enough."

Garbor paused, looking at Sanguini with irritation.

"You _had_ to figure it out. After all I've done to set myself up in the perfect place to sniff out possible rivals and you and your stupid little Musette had to mess it up! Why do you think I pushed for the limit on siring? After I realized that simply siring left and right wasn't working, the only way to be sure to catch the next one was though limiting our numbers. Obviously there were other good arguments for it or no one else on the Council would have agreed to it, but still, it made things _far_ easier for me. Of course, someone had to take the blame for my failed experiment, and who better than good ol' Bludvarticus? You remember him, don't you, Erheldt? Big in muscle, small in brains. He had the motive and was stupid enough to brag in public about having done it. He deserved what he got, as far as I'm concerned."

"Why are you doing this, Garbor?" Erheldt said quietly, his voice full of fury.

"My parents told me when I was very little, and I found out for myself. I age when I want. I reverse it when it suits me. I do not need blood. I do not need to consume anything to live, nor will I die if I eat nothing at all. Even my fangs are...well...I willed myself to have them and they developed. I am...a _god_."

"And your point is?" Severus asked, rolling his eyes at Garbor's obnoxious posturing.

"I am...bored and boredom is worse than death," Garbor replied, shooting a glare at Severus, "I require...one like myself, but lesser than myself. I require a wife, a plaything...a _goddess_. I shall mold her from infancy, make her my companion. We shall play with the world as we see fit and then I shall want for nothing."

"And...Hermione?" Severus said, his voice disturbingly even.

"I'm still trying to decide what to do with the vessel," Garbor mused, as though talking aloud to himself, "Of course, I think that it would be best to break her earlier than later. You should have seen how she cried when I touched her until she shivered under me. Her suffering was rather exquisite."

"You sick fuck!" Sanguini hissed as Severus stared down the ancient creature before him with a look that burned.

"Oh, yes, that does upset you, doesn't it, Severus?" Garbor said, his mouth twisted in a gash-like smirk as he approached the frozen man, standing so that the wand Severus had pointed outward was pressed against his chest. "You can try all you like, but you can't swish and flick while you're trapped by my wires and you can't cast a spell. Even if you could, you can't kill me. No one can. I am what that pathetic Dark Lord of yours only dreamed of being. A true immortal. We are born, not made."

"You made the Blood Oath knowing full well that if you won, it would kill me, and that you could disregard it if you lost, didn't you?" Severus said, his voice growing accusatory as the thought of Hermione being harmed by Garbor filled him with fury.

"So what? Are you going to cry because I cheated?" Garbor laughed cruelly and poked Severus in the nose. "I suppose it's inevitable, really. You're probably already pathologically sad because you know that no woman would have you unless she was forced into it. How lucky for you that she became your _Animavinculum_ or you'd probably be alone the moment her Change was complete! You're _pathetic_!"

"I'm not the one raping women and planning to steal children from their mothers to brainwash them!" Severus replied, his voice pointed and cold.

Garbor fanned the air as though a terrible smell had filled the room and shrugged.

"I suppose even a god isn't _always_ perfect," he purred, "No matter! I believe it's time for Sanguini here to suffer a little more before we get back to you, Severus. After all, I want to save the best for last."

Garbor flicked his wand to the side and the curtains on the far wall parted, revealing a dark alcove behind it.

"They weren't exactly telling the truth when they told you that there was no body," Garbor said, leering at Sanguini, "In fact, I think you would be rather surprised at the advances modern magic have developed."

"Just get it over with, Garbor!" Sanguini snapped. "I tire of your ridiculous games!"

"Ah, but I don't, and when you're an immortal such as I, you learn to savor your fun." Garbor flicked Sanguini on the nose and twisted his wand so that Erheldt was moving jerkily towards the darkness as the metal strings forced his body to move.

"You've gone mad, Garbor!" Erheldt's voice was deep and full of disapproval.

"Madness? Hah! The only thing I see is power and the strength to wield it over my inferiors. I see we have a volunteer! Very good! Let's show Sanguini what's behind curtain number one!"

Erheldt was obviously very strong, even for a vampire, but even he seemed to have trouble pulling the large tank into the room.

"Recognize anyone?" Garbor said, laughing horribly as he lit up the tank and Sanguini gasped as though his heart had shot into his throat.

A woman's body from the neck down floated, naked, in the tank. Where her head had been was now nothing more than a large stone covered with various glowing runes that seemed connected to her body with magic, as there was no other obvious fastener that held it onto her neck. The skin on the body seemed unearthly pale in the light, and clear liquid bubbled and moved around the body continuously. Severus could see the horribly deflated belly that looked disturbingly empty, a reminder of Garbor's past ruthlessness.

"N...no….M...Musette!" Sanguini's body jerked unnaturally as Garbor forced him to move closer to the tank until his nose was pressed against the glass.

"Blood plasma is clear. Who knew, right?" Garbor said, smirking all the while. "It also has certain capabilities for forcing the body to continue its basic functions, even once something important, such as the brain, is gone. The runic golem's head helps, of course. You must understand, she _was_ gone, so it's not _really_ rape anymore. But alas, even my most ardent efforts could not succeed in making anything take root in her broken womb."

"And whose fault is _that_?!" Sanguini was incoherent; messy tears were streaming down his cheeks and his voice sounded as though something deep inside had broken.

"Hey, I worked with what I got. It's not my fault that the hunter who took the job removed her goddamn head. I was very specific that she merely be captured, but she just _had_ to struggle. Such a waste, really."

"You bastard! You goddamn bastard! You...I'll fucking kill you!"

"Don't make me laugh, Sanguini. You're practically an infant compared to me. Besides, didn't you hear me the first time? I'm _immortal_. I'll be here when you and your precious vegetable there are mere bits of dust spread out across the cosmos."

"Garbor, why must you do these things?" Erheldt grunted, frozen in place behind the tank. "Can't you see that he's suffered enough?"

"Oh ho ho! And what is that I hear? You actually feel _sorry_ for this piece of garbage?" Garbor snapped his fingers and Erheldt marched on the silver strings until he was standing at attention next to Sanguini. "No...oh my god, I can't believe it! You CARE about him, don't you? I'll bet you've already taken him to your bed!"

Erheldt looked away and said nothing.

"I'm right, aren't I? Oh, that's just _rich_ , right there! You get your dick wet and now you're just jumping at the chance to play the big knight in shining armor, aren't you?" Garbor laughed nastily as he forced Erheldt to grab Sanguini in an embrace, flitting around them and making disgusted faces at them, his voice going falsetto as he pretended to be Sanguini. "Oh big strong Viper, won't you please save little ol' me from the bad, bad man? I'll even kiss you on your thingie and everything!"

"That's not how it is, and you know it!" Erheldt growled.

"I really don't care who you choose to shag in your spare time, Erheldt, and the fact of the matter is that your time is running out as it is, so I suggest that you sit down and shut up!" Garbor's mood seemed to shift suddenly and he scowled, making the three sit in their seats using the silver wires. With a flick of his wand, he moved the tank to the other end of the table, where it stood like a grizzly guest of honor.

"I do believe I'm getting bored of this," Garbor said with a yawn, "So I think that I shall go collect Hermione and bring her back to finish this. I think that it shall be sufficiently traumatizing if I rape the shit out of her on the table while you're forced to watch. I won't even freeze her or anything while I did it. I promised her that I'd let her be as loud as she wanted to be the first time, after all, and some promises are _meant_ to be kept."

With that, Garbor strode from the room with a confident sneer.

He did not notice that Severus had already succeeded in severing more than half of the silver wires that bound him in place using silently cast spells. It took another minute before his arm was finally free, but once he had control over his wand arm once more, it was easy for him to cut the other strings holding him in place and he immediately cut Sanguini and Erheldt free as well.

"Come on, then," Severus growled, his eyes flashing with ruthless determination, "It is time to end this once and for all."

The other two nodded grimly as they followed Severus through the door and after the ancient, immortal madman.


	45. Chapter 45

**Author's Note:** I know, I know, you all want me to kill off Garbor, but unfortunately, we're not quite there yet….if we ever do get there, that is. Creating an immortal might be easier, but destroying one...well...it may take the combined forces of many to bring down that monster.

* * *

 **Chapter 45: Escape**

"Are you ready yet?"

Draco was sorely tempted to look back and see for himself, but he had already given Hermione her wand back and he did not wish to risk having his bits hexed off.

"Just a moment! I still need to reduce the length of this skirt so I don't keep tripping over it."

Draco looked nervously at the window, which he'd already cleared of garlic and blasted with Scourgify. He'd also worked on destroying the blood wards that were stained into the wood of the windowsill, but he wasn't sure how well he'd done. Other than Muggle Studies, Charms class was one of Draco's weakest subjects, and his father wouldn't let him wiggle out of the so-called "backbone of every wizard's magical education."

"You still need to check the wards and make sure I've dispelled them properly! They're far more complicated than any I've ever had to work with in school!" Draco whispered urgently, glancing nervously over at the door again, where Stanley had silently positioned himself with his long whiskered nose under the door keeping watch for intruders while Draco had been working on Hermione's silver bindings.

"I know, I know, and Severus will attach you by the seat of your pants to the Whomping Willow with a Permanent Sticking Charm if one hair on my head is out of place," Hermione said flippantly, pulling the dark blue long coat flush with her chest, frowning a bit when the top few buttons were far too tight to clasp properly. Finally, she just left it open, twisting a scarf around her neck with an irritated sound in the back of her throat.

Draco's expression was filled with relief when she finally joined him by the window and began checking out the blood wards.

"Mmm….it was a good idea for you to have me check these," she said after a few moments of work, "It looks like the wards are set to cause exsanguination if a vampire enters or exits through this window, and you missed this part in the corner ridge."

Draco gulped.

"You mean like….bleeding to death?" he said worriedly, his face ashen.

"Pretty much. You aren't hurt, are you, Draco?" Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wide with concern.

Draco stepped back instinctively.

"N...no...I'm fine…" he stammered, blushing as she smiled with relief.

He knew that less than a week ago, she wouldn't have batted an eyelash at the thought of him coming to harm. Still, he couldn't help but stare at her belly as though it would grow out as he watched. He could barely believe that she was a vampire much less willingly intimate with _Snape_ of all people. It defied logic.

As he watched her reduce the remains of the blood ward to a dusty ash that she then Scourgified into oblivion, he remembered the tiny twinge of pain that he'd felt on his way in. Perhaps that was due to his having been bitten earlier. It made sense, after all, as the vampire venom might react to the wards in a mild manner.

"Shall we, then?" Draco asked, trying to sound like the dashing rescuer he wanted to be. Unfortunately, it was hard to appear dashing while straddling a broom, and he found himself blushing furiously with embarrassment as he half-tripped on his cloak and stumbled before catching himself and standing up.

Hermione snickered and nodded, climbing on behind him and tucking her arms around his waist. He was very glad that she could not see his face, because he felt as though steam were about to erupt from his ears.

"C'mon Stanley! No one gets left behind, especially not you!" Hermione said, patting her jacket pocket.

The rat turned with a squeak and ran towards them, hopping up onto the bristle of the broom and climbing up Hermione's outstretched hand and arm until he was securely in her pocket.

"Ok, then, hang on everyone!" Draco said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt about flying back out into thin air with an extra passenger on the broom.

Hermione pulled her arms around him and held on tightly, and Draco kicked off, hovering slightly and bending forward to fit through the window. Hermione followed his lead, and he could feel her pressing her cheek against his back as she scrunched herself down as far as she could go. There was a moment of terror when they cleared the window and the broom dropped about five feet, but it quickly corrected itself and Draco covered them both with a Disillusionment Charm as they sped off through the artificial night sky.

The wind roared in Draco's ears, so when Hermione said something, he didn't hear her. Luckily, he knew his way back to Erheldt's flat, and the window was still open, so he flew back in, staying hidden under the Disillusionment Charm until he could shut the window and draw the curtains. Hermione checked the rooms carefully, her shimmering outline moving to look under beds and in even the tiniest closets for any trace of an ambush.

Thankfully, there was none.

"So, then," Hermione said, shaking off the Disillusionment Charm with ease, "Where is Severus?"

"He should be back any moment," Draco replied evasively.

Hermione sagged with relief. But, when Draco's rigid posture didn't relax at all, she began to grow suspicious, her eyes narrowing. Draco tried to turn away, but she grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him back to face her.

"Where is he, Draco? Tell me the truth or so help me…"

Draco held up his hands in surrender.

"It was their idea, honest!" he said fearfully, "They needed a good enough distraction to keep Garbor occupied while I tried to rescue you…."

"WHAT?!" Hermione roared, her fingers digging into his shoulder. "NO! Draco, listen, we _need_ to go back!"

Draco's eyes narrowed and his expression darkened.

"I don't think you-"

"No, YOU don't understand, Draco! He's going to _kill_ Severus! He's insane and quite comfortable with casually murdering people if it suits him."

"And so what, you're going to attempt to _reason_ with a crazy person?" Draco replied, crossing his arms. "I promised them that I would rescue you and keep you safe. And besides, I don't fancy going back towards certain death. It's not a problem when I'm just sneaking in and getting you out without having to fight, but you're talking about a head-on assault, and to be honest, it's suicidal. I'm not like you, Hermione, I'm a Slytherin. We value self-preservation. Maybe you should consider not running towards certain death at every chance. Just because you were lucky once doesn't mean that you'll be lucky a second time."

"Fine! Then I'll just go back myself!" Hermione huffed, trying to grab the broom from Draco.

Draco sighed.

"I made a promise. I will destroy this broom if it means keeping it."

"Don't bother!" Hermione sniffed. "I'll just turn into a bat and fly there myself!"

Draco gasped involuntarily as she transformed into her bat form, but quickly recovered. Luckily, he'd closed the windows behind the blinds and Hermione was obviously not thinking clearly, for as she flew towards the curtains, he raised one hand to stop her, his mouth open to form the words but-

 _WHACK_!

Hermione slammed against the window, squeaking with surprise before sliding down the wall and collapsing on the floor, unconscious. Stanley ran to her from the armrest that she'd placed him onto before transforming and he stroked her soft brown fur making soothing squeaking noises before looking back at Draco with an accusatory glare.

"What?!" Draco exclaimed, looking chagrined, "I didn't MAKE her run into the window!"

Stanley glared even more pointedly than before.

"I _tried_ to warn her!" Draco protested, throwing his hands in the air moments later. "You know what? _Whatever_! If this is the kind of thanks I'm going to get for all my trouble, I'm done! I'm tired of playing the good guy if all I have to show for it is attitude from the likes of you!"

He stormed out of the room leaving Stanley attending to an unconscious Hermione in bat form.

Of course, several minutes later, Draco stomped back in and picked up Hermione's little fluffy body and carried her to the bathroom, setting up a Cushioning Charm in the bathtub and laying her down on it before warding the door shut as best he could. Somehow, she'd figured out some way to keep her wand with her when she transformed, so there wasn't much he could do about that. He simply hoped that she'd remain unconscious until the others returned so that he didn't have to worry about facing Hermione down head-on.

He did not like his odds against an angry vampire, much less an angry vampire version of Hermione. And it didn't help that the rat was still staring at him with a rather disapproving glare. Draco was able to pull a large block of cheese from the larder to keep Stanley busy, but by the time Draco collapsed onto the leather chair by the darkened fireplace, he could barely keep his eyes open.

"I'll just close my eyes for a moment...just to rest them...that's all…" he muttered to himself.

But moments later, his breathing had evened out and his hands fell limp on either side of the armrests as he drifted into a deep and blessedly dreamless sleep.


	46. Chapter 46

**Author's Note:** **So, a couple of delays in getting this chapter out, but I'm pretty satisfied with it. It's a bit longer than usual, so I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

 **Chapter 46: The High Council**

Severus took the lead in his pursuit of Garbor, who was practically skipping up the stairs as gleefully as though Christmas had come early. He still didn't seem to have realized that his captives had broken free, which, as far as Severus was concerned, was a good thing. Still, he cast a Silencing Charm on his shoes and, from the lack of footsteps slapping against the stone steps behind him, it seemed that both Erheldt and Sanguini had taken the liberty of doing the same. It helped that they were vampires, which meant that the ability to be stealthy was in their blood... _literally_. It felt odd to be running up stairs at full speed without the merest sound to mark their progress, but that was honestly the last thing on his mind.

While Severus still somewhat doubted that a real immortal being actually existed (as even the Dark Lord had not been truly immortal even with all of his horcruxes), but he was also not stupid enough to assume that it was impossible. After all, most of the things that existed in the wizarding world seemed impossible to the average muggle. It would, therefore, be the epitome of stupidity to simply discount it without further inquiry. It also meant, however, that it would be very difficult to kill the ancient vampire, if at all.

That meant using non-lethal spells, which put them at a disadvantage. Severus was still thinking dark thoughts when he realized that the footsteps above them had stopped. Glancing back, he realized that Erheldt and Sanguini had fallen behind him a bit, perhaps due to their lack of regular sprinting. Severus, of course, had years of experience constantly chasing first years and keeping them from falling to their deaths on the moving staircases at Hogwarts, so although his legs were still long and lithe, they were rather developed from all of that exertion.

Slowing down, Severus crept up towards the next landing carefully, his body bent down in a defensive position as he steadied himself on the railing with one hand and held his wand at the ready with the other.

There was the sound of a lock clicking open echoing down what sounded like a hallway and then-

"WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS THIS?!" Garbor boomed angrily.

It was then that Severus knew that Draco had been successful in his rescue mission, and he relaxed slightly, knowing that at least there wouldn't be a hostage situation. However, that still left-

"YOU!"

 _Shit_.

They'd been discovered.

Garbor's face appeared above them, his expression contorted with inhuman rage, and Severus only had a fraction of a second to raise his Shield Charm before all manner of ancient, murderous spells were raining down on his head. Some of the words coming from Garbor's mouth sounded unlike language he'd ever heard, and Severus practically flattened himself against the wall while trying to move forward enough to get to a good place for retaliation.

Severus felt his heart leap with hope when Sanguini sent out a Total Body Bind from behind Erheldt's shield, but the spell hit the bannister instead of the homicidal vampire, whose eyes had gone nearly red with rage as he hurled powerful waves of deadly spells at the trio below.

And then, all at once, it was over. The spells ceased altogether. Severus was not stupid, though. He knew that this was no time to lower his Shield Charm. Garbor's wand withdrew from where it was dangling over the landing.

"You're lucky you know!" Garbor shouted angrily, his voice echoing down the stairwell. "If I wasn't being called away for an emergency meeting of the Council, I'd personally see that each and every one of your deaths was particularly gruesome and full of suffering to the last! But, as it is, I am being called to do more important things. Anya! You know what to do. Take care of our esteemed guests in my absence. They are not to leave."

"Yes, my Lord," Anya said from the same landing. "As you command it, so it is done. Your usual exit is ready."

There was a sound like a vacuum tube popping open and a tiny bat-like squeak of triumph filled the air.

"We must follow him! Quickly!" Erheldt shouted, but Severus held up his hand to stop them from dispelling their Shield Charms.

"What a careful little black bat," Anya said with a humorless chuckle, her voice full of contempt. "But I am a vampire of honor, unlike the three of you with your disgusting lack of manners. I swear upon my status as one of our kind not to harm you until you reach the far room at the end of this hallway. I shall wait for you there. And when we face off, fang to fang, I also promise that I shall show no mercy."

They all listened to the sound of high heeled shoes tapping slowly down the hallway before a door closed with a soft click

"Should we go? It might be a trap!" Sanguini hissed.

"Well, _of course_ it's a trap!" Severus shot back. "This whole _bloody_ house is a trap!"

"It is true, Sanguini," Erheldt said, rubbing his thumb in a circle around Sanguini's hand gently, "Garbor has defenses without as well as within. Our plan for escape was directly tied to taking Gabor hostage. If he leaves, we have a very difficult fight ahead of us."

"Why not just go back the way we came?" Sanguini asked hopefully.

"It would not work," Erheldt replied, his eyes growing dark with memory as he shook his head slowly from side to side. "Garbor has affixed many of his lower rooms with ultraviolet light-emitting bulbs. There are panic doors that will seal shut as well. We would be trapped and then burned alive. It would not be a good death. I had the grave misfortune to witness them in use."

"Ahead it is, then," Severus replied through gritted teeth. His Shield Charm was weakening from prolonged use and he could feel his power draining as well. He wasn't certain if he'd be able to transform into his bat form, especially now that Hermione was not there to provide him with a meal to recharge.

"I guess, all we need to do now is fight this Anya and anyone else who Garbor has left behind to make us dead." Erheldt said with a deep, rueful chuckle.

"How bad could it be?" Sanguini asked.

Severus looked back and facepalmed rather theatrically, his glare so intense that he nearly expected it to burn whoever dared look him in the eyes. He was actually somewhat disappointed when Sanguini did not burst into flame.

"Are you an absolute _idiot,_ Sanguini?! Don't you know that you should _never_ say those five words in that order?!" Severus exclaimed loudly, "Because, inevitably, doing so will make it worse than you can ever imagine!"

"Er...Oops..." Sanguini trailed off, looking somewhat embarrassed.

Severus muttered a number of evil things under his breath as he dispelled the Silencing Charm and marched up the stairs as loudly as possible, the clatter of his boots ringing up and down the stairwell in a rapid cacophony of sound.

"Oh come on, Severus, lighten up! Have some fun!" Erheldt called out from behind him.

He snorted derisively and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

This was not going to be fun. At all.

* * *

Darkness.

Darkness and flashes of light, as though a single bulb was swinging back and forth slowly, only giving the merest bit of illumination to the tiny, miserable cell. Pansy Parkinson curled up more tightly on the grimy floor, almost thankful that she could not see the horrible things that were sure to be skittering across the floor.

Hearing them was bad enough.

It was over. She knew from the derisive things being said by the guards who walked the long, dark corridor, that she was not a true vampire, yet she was also not human any longer. The word for what she was...it made her shudder even though she didn't know its meaning. It was only a matter of time before she was brought before the Council and sentenced to some horrible fate. Her selfishness and greed had brought her to this moment, and all Pansy could think about was the look on her sister's face...the look of horror, of betrayal.

 _I'm a monster._

The thought went on and on in her head, wrapping around her mind until it seemed to come from everywhere around her. From the intermittent dripping of water to the sound of feet as they made their rounds past the cells, all she could hear was _monster, monster, monster monster_.

And everyone knew what happened to monsters.

A loud clang against the door of her cell sent her upright in a second, her body instinctively cringing backwards against the far wall as though readying herself for a blow.

"You have a visitor. Ten minutes. No funny business or we put you down right now."

The guard laughed nastily as though he was hoping Pansy _would_ try something funny.

A cloaked figure stepped into the front of the cell holding a small glowing stone.

"Pansy, it's me."

Pansy felt as though all of her breath had been squeezed from her body. She only dared to breathe when the figure pulled back her hood and her sister gazed down at her with a mixture of disgust and pity on her face.

"HYACINTH!" Pansy gasped, her hand reaching up as though to grasp at her sister's robes but faltering at the last minute.

"I know what I said before, sister," Hyacinth said, her nose in the air as she spoke with a contemptuous vigor, "But the fact remains that you are my only sister, and when I heard that you were to be judged, I knew that I could not leave you to rot even though I should."

"Is there some way out of this? Some way for me to be redeemed?" Pansy's voice cracked with the merest hint of hope as she wrung her grimy hands together.

"That I cannot say. It is for the High Council to decide. Dominus Garbor will not be kind. He detests those who would try to take on our forms without the proper permissions in place." Hyacinth's face was grim in the tiny glow in the cell.

"Well..then...I guess...this is goodbye, then…" Pansy said haltingly, her voice choking up with unshed tears. "I'm sorry that I wasn't a better sister. I'm sorry that I dragged you into this and then fucked it up even more. I'm...I'm just...so...sorry...I...I should have known to leave it well enough alone, but I...I…"

Pansy could feel the tears pouring down her cheeks and her broken sobs destroyed any attempt to make intelligible words, but there was no way to stop them. A dam had been broken inside of her, and she couldn't hold back her despair any longer. For though she'd been tricked and manipulated by the horcrux of Bellatrix Lestrange, Pansy could not deny that she'd had an active part to play in coming to the current situation in which she found herself.

And then, surprisingly warm arms were around her, holding her tight as Hyacinth hugged her tightly without seeming to care about the grime at all.

"Shhh, Pansy, shhh," Hyacinth said gently, "You may be a fuck-up, but you'll always be my little sister. I'm not going to abandon you, no matter what."

"Do you mean that?" Pansy croaked, all sense of pretence and pride gone from her voice. "Please. Promise me that it's not just something that you're saying to make me feel better."

"I will be there until the end in whatever capacity I am allowed," Hyacinth said sadly, "after all, I cannot bend our laws to my will."

To that, Pansy said nothing. There was nothing _to_ say, really. The unspoken weight of her likely execution hung between them as they clung to one another, willing themselves to breathe as the seconds passed by in the darkness.

* * *

High above the holding cell, a lavish, wooden courtroom filled with a plethora of vampires, none of whom looked anything like the muggle caricature of a vampire. One vampire wore a kimono, her hair in golden metal beads that tinkled like tiny bells. Another vampire had dark brown skin and an impressive array of tattoos and piercings, his eyes a striking hazel as he looked around the room and stroked his goatee thoughtfully. Still another vampire was so short that he needed a special seat with a small rope ladder in order to see at the same level as the others. A pair of twin vampires, one wearing an iridescent sari while the other wore a white button-up shirt with the cuffs folded up her forearms and a pair of denim jeans. They both had matching earrings on the opposite ear. A vampire with a long, thin curling moustache took a seat in the corner, his nose as pointed as a bird's beak. There were many others, and the room, which seemed so large at first, began to feel small and almost cramped once it had been filled.

All of the vampires talked quietly amongst one another as they waited for their leader.

They didn't have to wait long.

"Esteemed colleagues!" Dominus Garbor strode smoothly in through the side door as though he were walking on air. "What an honor to see each and every one of you assembled to right yet another grievous wrong done to us by the wretched humans!"

A murmur filled the room as the vampires seemed to agree with their leader.

"We have today a young woman who has taken of a vampire's blood without sanction!" Garbor continued, his voice as smooth and commanding as a master ringleader at a circus. "We shall see evidence, and then we shall decide on her punishment! All in favor of calling the High Council to order, say 'aye'!"

"AYE!" came the reply, a roar that filled the room until the walls seemed to shake.

"Then I call this, the four-hundred, sixty-five-thousand, nine-hundred and seventy-second Council Meeting to order!"

No one seemed to notice the menacing gleam in Garbor's eye as he swept around the podium and turned to take his seat in the front and center of the Council's seating area.

"Bring in the accused!" he cried, banging a tiny gavel against the podium.

He stood, his suit impeccable, his hair in perfect order and he straightened his cufflinks expectantly, a slow grin creeping up both sides of his face before sitting down slowly in the onyx stone seat he'd called his own for more than a thousand years.

This was _perfect_. Absolutely perfect.

There was nothing that anyone could do to stop him now.


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 47: Stanley to the Rescue**

Hermione opened her eyes with a small, pained squeak. Placing her tiny wing hook up to her forehead, she rubbed the fuzzy lump on her forehead.

 _That's the last time I fly before I look. Wait...where the hell am I?_

Draco had mentioned that they were going back to Erheldt's apartment to regroup, but she had thought that would mean that the others would have returned as well. Looking around, she noticed that she was in what appeared to be Erheldt's bathroom, as she'd never been in there before. Apparently, Erheldt was a big fan of marble and oak, because Hermione felt as though she's been transported back in time to Victorian England. While Hogwarts had its share of medieval facilities, the castle held a decidedly different feel than this room.

Hermione's head was still ringing from the impact, but she was certain that there had been more to why she'd tried to fly face first into a window. But for now, all she could remember was a sense of urgency and Draco's cold voice telling her...

 _Severus! Please answer me!_

She called out his name in her head, projecting her thoughts out around her, hoping to hear him respond as he had before.

There was nothing.

No, wait, there _was_ a noise, but it wasn't in her head. She could hear a scratching sound coming from the wall and her ears rotated towards its origin. Apparently, there were some perks to having such large, sensitive ears.

She crawled awkwardly over to the noise, which was growing louder until, with a loud popping noise, a round knot of wood in the paneling near the floor next to the sink came loose and Stanley's dark nose popped out, twitching excitedly.

He quickly ran towards her and stopped, standing on his haunches and cocking his head to the side. Hermione attempted to copy the gesture, but it hurt her neck, so she merely squeaked piteously in reply.

Stanley squeaked and pointed as though trying to pantomime speech and then, as Hermione continued to stare back with uncomprehending eyes, he pulled a small piece of parchment from his messenger bag and began to write with a tiny quill pen in rather neat block letters.

WHY ARE YOU STILL A BAT?

He held the sign up, his eyes half closed in an approximation of a disapproving glare as he made a doorknob-turning motion.

 _Oh_.

Hermione felt rather embarrassed.

Moments later, Hermione was human sized and shaped once more, her face somewhat flushed with lingering embarrassment and the throbbing pain that still lingered in her head. She bent down and held out a hand to Stanley, who climbed on with an approving nod and scurried up her arm, sliding down her shoulder into her chest pocket.

"I would have figured it out eventually," she said as she rubbed the bump on her head.

She hadn't realized that it was possible for a rat to squeak in a sarcastic tone of voice, but Stanley managed rather well, and Hermione snorted with laughter despite herself.

There was a rather shoddy ward on the door that was easily broken with minimal noise. Hermione's main concern was dealing with Draco, but she needn't have worried. Draco was sprawled out on the chair by the fireplace, his head leaned back so far that his nose stuck straight up in the air. He was snoring softly, which nearly made Hermione laugh, though she held it back on the off chance he was a light sleeper.

She wished she had a camera, though. No one would believe Draco Malfoy capable of such an undignified state. Even the incident where he had been transformed into a ferret didn't hold a candle to the slight trail of drool pooling at the corner of his mouth and the almost comical snot bubble plugging his left nostril.

Hermione silently cast a Silencing Spell around Draco's ears so that he wouldn't be easily woken by any noises she might make on her way out. Besides, from the dark bags under his eyes, it looked like he could use the sleep.

The broom stood near the window, propped up on a stand. Hermione could finally remember Draco's threat to destroy the broom and she smirked at how terrible the lie was. Draco could no more destroy such a beautiful thing than he would cut his hair short and dye it pink.

She still didn't enjoy flying on brooms, but if Hermione had learned one thing, it was that most unpleasant things were put in perspective by an even more unpleasant experience. Case in point: flying on the back of a half-blind dragon after escaping from Gringotts had been far worse than any broom.

"I would fly in my other form, but something tells me that I might need to fly someone back on the broom if someone gets injured in their stupid distraction attempt," Hermione said, making sure that Stanley was safely secured in her pocket, "Besides, something tells me that you'd be rather cross with me if I left you here with Mr. Snores-a-lot over there."

Stanley squeaked sharply, and though Hermione knew it was silly to think that he was agreeing with her, she couldn't help the feeling she had that this was exactly what he meant.

"Come on then," she said, doing her best to prepare herself for the drop out the window as she pulled the curtains to the side and pushed the window open.

Straddling the broom, she could feel its power thrumming under her like the powerful sensation of sitting astride a horse. This was certainly different than the school brooms. She'd honestly not noticed it much before, perhaps due to her remaining fear of heights and the fact that the broom was carrying Draco as well.

But now, it filled her with an odd sense of safety.

 _Good. I'll need every bit of confidence I can get to get through all of this alive._

"All right, then!" she said loudly, as she braced herself in the windowsill, "Point the way, Stanley!"

Stanley's squeaks were drowned out by the rush of air as the broom shot up, up into the underground night at dizzying speeds. Hermione held on with her teeth gritted and her knuckles white as she struggled to stay on the broom. Belatedly, she realized that _this_ was indeed far worse than the dragon.


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 48: Battle Preparations**

"I shall go in the front," Erheldt said, his face deadly serious as he turned back to look at Sanguini and Severus. "I know it isn't exactly the best moment to ask, Severus, but have you any experience with close-quarters combat? Sanguini, I know that you were a fan of the blade in our old days together. This is still true, yes?"

Sanguini's face hardened and he drew a small, thin blade from the inner fold of his cloak.

"Hidden scabbard," he explained, holding the rapier at the ready.

Severus looked at the both of them skeptically.

"I was a _spy_ in the war, if that tells you anything about my preferred method of combat," he said, his lips thin with irritation, "I can hold my own with magic and spellcraft, and I am good with Potions, but I am not a Gryffindor. I despise risk, especially when it's obvious that we will be outnumbered."

"Ah, so you _can_ feel it, can't you?" Erheldt replied, rolling his shoulders and cracking his back loudly as though doing warm-up stretches. "There are many waiting to confront us behind this door."

"I just don't understand why she doesn't just fry us with those lights you mentioned." Sanguini said, looking around nervously, as though said lights were about to come on at any given moment.

"As twisted as Garbor is, he still appears to have some sense of fair play, even if it is to send us into a fight severely outnumbered," Erheldt murmured darkly. "All of the Vipers have known that Garbor is, to some extent, a shady fellow, but he has always done very well at making his public image as shiny and bland as possible. He has never shown his hand before now."

"Funny, that," Severus said sardonically, "But I consider Garbor sending us into a fight severely outnumbered to be the exact _opposite_ of fair play. As far as I can tell, he thrives off of making others suffer. It's disturbingly similar to the Dark Lord, to be honest. A quick death would be...unsatisfying to him...even if he isn't here to witness it."

"This is true," Erheldt agreed, stroking his chin in thought, "In fact, I doubt that they will kill us now, merely harm us or attempt to do so. They will leave the killing for when Garbor returns."

"So...good news?" Sanguini asked hopefully.

"Barely," Severus replied, rolling his eyes.

Erheldt made a quick motion with his suit and suddenly, his suit jacket had unfurled into a long, crimson trenchcoat, which appeared to be hanging rather heavily down the sides. When he turned, Severus could see a flash of silver and a hilt made of some sort of dark material. Severus and Sanguini looked at the elder vampire with matching expressions of surprise.

"Where, exactly, were you hiding that?" Sanguini asked incredulously.

"Wouldn't _you_ like to find out?" Erheldt replied suggestively with a deep chuckle.

Deftly, he flicked his fingers down the sides of his vest, revealing tiny sheaths that housed what appeared to be very tiny throwing daggers. Finally, Erheldt placed his hand behind his head and whispered a number of words that sounded somewhat like Latin, though Severus knew it wasn't Latin at all. The tips of his reddish brown fingers flared gold and a thick handle materialized in his hand. The outline of an even thicker blade began to glow behind him, the tip touching lightly against the floor. With a bright flash of light that made Severus and Sanguini cover their eyes, Erheldt completed the spell with a guttural shout, the light dying abruptly and leaving spots in everyone's field of view.

"You could have warned us," Severus said with an annoyed glare as Erheldt smugly hefted what appeared to be a rather large claymore over one shoulder. The blunt edge was covered nearly a quarter of the way with something that almost looked like a conical shield built into the blade.

"Indeed, I _could_ ," Erheldt said, his voice as smug as his expression.

"Now, if you're both done dilly-dallying out here in the hallway trying to impress each other with ridiculous displays of power and manliness, I think it's time we finally go in and see what we're up against," Severus said, his face unamused as Sanguini and Erheldt shared a rather smouldering glance.

"One last thing. After all, we may not have a chance to do _this_ again," Erheldt said, his voice deepening an octave as he approached Sanguini and pulled his sharp, pale chin up, kissing him deeply.

Severus pointedly stared at the wall as Sanguini melted into Erheldt's lips with a quiet moan.

"You disapprove of our relationship, Severus?" Erheldt asked, as he broke his kiss with Sanguini.

"No. I simply disapprove of people snogging in hallways and forcing me to watch instead of focusing on getting ready to fight!" Severus snapped back, crossing his arms in irritation.

"Somebody's _jealous_!" Sanguini said, his somewhat breathless voice filled with a sing-song taunt that made Severus bristle.

"As long as she's... _safe_ , I can die knowing that I did right by her!" he hissed, "Which is more than I can say for _Musette_!"

Sanguini recoiled as though he'd been punched in the stomach and stared at the floor, all traces of the giddy joy from moments before gone from his face.

"That was a low blow, Severus," he muttered morosely after a long moment of silence.

"If that's what it takes you to get your head on straight long enough to take this seriously, then so be it!" Severus replied angrily, baring his fangs in defiance. "You fucked up when you let her die. You fucked up when you sired me instead of draining me and leaving me for dead, leaving me trapped in this miserable half-existence with its wretched Need! So for the love of Merlin, do not fuck up now just because you're too busy acting like a twitterpated schoolboy to pull your head out of your arse and focus on the fight ahead!"

"You are far too cruel and harsh, Severus," Erheldt said, stepping in front of Sanguini, who had turned away to look at the wall, hiding his face from view as it contorted with grief. "However, the meaning of your words ring true in part. We must be serious to stand even a glimmer of a chance of winning."

Erheldt squeezed Sanguini's shoulder and the defeated vampire nodded his head slowly and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. Erheldt turned to look back at Severus, all traces of good humor gone from his face, and Severus could feel a chill pass between them. Severus, too, screwed down his mental shields as hard as he could, feeling his eyes go as flat and dead as they'd ever been in the presence of Voldemort.

"I have potions with me," Severus said, his voice flat and emotionless. "I shall provide support and spellwork from the back, as I only carry minimal melee weaponry."

Erheldt slid his wand into a hidden compartment on the claymore hilt. Severus could hear it click into place, surrounding the blade with a golden glow as though it were lit up by a million tiny points of light, while the strange, shield expanded outward slightly in an arc of blue light.

"It is old magic," Erheldt said, simply, his voice flat and hollow. "Stay close, everyone. We must not allow ourselves to be separated, lest a fate worse than death becomes our reality."

He twisted the knob and pushed forward into the darkness ahead, his weapon held in both hands as though ready to cleave any enemy in two.

Sanguini followed at Erheldt's side, his rapier in one hand and his wand in the other, his shoulders tense as his head moved back and forth, searching for oncoming opponents. Severus was last, but he too was on full alert, his face hardened into a battle scowl and his wand at the ready.

They were not ready, he knew, but they were as ready as they could possibly be.

The only thing that gave him comfort as grim thoughts of certain impending death filled his mind was that at least Hermione would be safe.

For that, anything was worth doing.

Anything at all.


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 49: The Hounds of Hell**

The room on the other side of the door was impossibly large, though it didn't seem so at first. They walked through a short hallway that opened out into a wide lighted ring that was surrounded by darkness. There was an oddly familiar feel to the place, and Severus tried not to let his mind wander wondering where he'd seen it before.

Anya stood at the other end of the ring of light, her arms crossed and her fangs fully extended over her bottom lip as she stared at them cooly.

"Ah, so you've decided to join us, have you?" she said, her voice full of mockery and derision. The tips of her short, jagged hair caught the light, and Severus could see that there was a strange teal color at the tips.

Once again, a strange sensation of deja vu filled him, and he forced himself to look at her stance for signs of impending attack, though there was none. Anya appeared to be standing with one leg crossed in front of the other as though frozen in mid step; a poor stance to begin a battle.

Or so it seemed. Severus was familiar enough with the tactic of pretending to be weak in order to cause others to drop their defenses.

"We have no quarrel with you, Nemnogo Radugi," Erheldt said, his tone unnervingly even as he stood frozen with his body ready to charge.

"You are not worthy to use that name, _bastard_!" Anya spat, her eyes flashing until they glowed an unnervingly shade of red.

Severus did not like this at all, but he knew that he could no more stop the ancient Viper from taunting their opponent than he could stop Dumbledore from his unnerving addiction to hard lemon candy.

"Why follow him, anyway? We both know that your beauty and power are too intense to be marred by such a despicable man." Erheldt smiled, though the expression was forced and never reached his eyes.

"Flattery and pet names will get you nowhere with me," Anya sneered. "He is the One who has been prophesied to rule our kind and subjugate our inferiors for hundreds of thousands of years! And you and your disrespectful companions are-"

"Doesn't it ever make you wonder why, if what you say is true, Garbor is so proud to embrace his heritage, that he's done everything to hide it?" Sanguini interrupted sharply. He was bent forward, his wand pointed at the floor, but his rapier was held at the ready.

"It is not my _place_ to choose who is worthy enough to know!" Anya hissed. "I have proven myself, which is more than you can say!"

"Pity." Erheldt replied sadly, shaking his head, "The Anya I knew would not change herself to suit another."

"The Anya you knew died a long time ago. Good riddance, if you ask me!" she replied, her lips pulled back in a snarl. "Besides, it does not matter that the _vessel_ has escaped. He will find the bitch and cut her pup out of her when the time comes. My hounds will feast on her bones. Though her genetics leave much to be desired, I shall help her learn the proper ways expected of our people. And, while he waits for his goddess, he will allow me to sit at his side as his queen. But then again, you sadly will not live to see any of this."

She turned her to the side, allowing the shadow to fall over her body unevenly. It made her face seem distorted somehow. No...something _was_ wrong with her face and Severus realized exactly where he'd seen it before when her hair suddenly grew long and bright red while her mouth began to elongate into a muzzle-like shape, her laughter growing animalistic as long, sharp teeth began to push out of her jaw, her body rippling as it changed and grew, the dress changing magically into bristling red fur.

 _Metamorphmagus_ , a voice in his mind squeaked foolishly, but Severus knew better than to babble like an idiot and simply screwed his mouth into a firm, thin line as he braced himself for the coming onslaught.

"COME, MY HOUNDS!" Her barely human features contorted as she spoke and her tongue lolled from the front of her massive, vulpine mouth. "LEAVE NOTHING LEFT OF THEM!"

An almost electric ripple of power shot out from her form and she dropped to all fours, massive claws like a badger's only larger growing from huge, hairy paws. With a shout, Severus pulled a Shield Charm over the three of them, as Sanguini stood frozen, obviously too utterly shocked to move while Erheldt's wide, fangy grin made him look as though he was far too excited about the impending battle to care.

The creature that Anya had become seemed absurdly huge in the room, its legs long and thin like a wolf's, but its paws were like a lion's. Long, scarlet hair poured back from the top of its head like a slicked-back mane, though her face was angular and muzzle both short and sharp like a fox's. She backed up, grinning ferally, and sat so that her body was in darkness, her face seeming to float in the air, smiling horribly at them.

The sound of many gates flying upward all around them made Severus turn around abruptly so that all three vampires were back-to-back.

"It seems that she wants her minions to play with her food, first. How _lucky_ for us." Severus drawled sardonically.

But part of him was rather glad that he didn't have to fight Anya...at least, not until he'd figured out her weakness. The problem was that, as far as he could tell, her weakness seemed to be _absolutely nothing at all_.

At first, all was silent save the slight reverberation from the gates, but then…

"What is that horrible stench?" Sanguini complained, tightening his grip on his rapier.

"There are many. Best to block it out before it gets worse." Erheldt cast a Bubble Head Charm on his head. Sanguini and Severus followed suit.

"Kill, kill, kill, then eat our fill," came the sound of many voices growling together in song, their many claws scraping on stone as though hundreds of bodies were clawing themselves up from Hell itself. A wet, horrible noise accompanied the scraping, and for a moment Severus wondered if Anya was attempting to nauseate them to death.

The worst part was that it was working unnervingly well.

The creatures that emerged from the gates looked as though their skin had been flayed from their bodies. All that was left was a pink, raw, bloody mess that coated them like slime. Blue-black veins wove through the tattered remains of their epidermal layer, giving them a mottled, half-dead appearance. Their ears had gone pointy and their eyes were further apart and beadier than a proper human being. There were also sparse, needle-like tufts of hair in various places, as though it had randomly decided to grow where it wanted on a whim. Their arms were long and fleshy and they moved on all fours like animals, their claw-like fingers scraping the ground as they moved. It wasn't the same way a dog might walk, their gait erratic due to their long, wing-like arms and normal length legs. There was enough vestigial secondary sex characteristics for one to figure out which were likely male and which were likely female, but the bloated, swollen flesh around their bodies made it hard to tell unless one really looked.

None of them wished to look more than they had to.

"Close your eyes when I count three," Severus whispered to the others from the corner of his mouth, their backs pressed against one another as they stood in the circle of light. He felt Sanguini and Erheldt nod against him, and he began, roaring out the spell at the end of the countdown: "Three...two...one...LUMOS MAXIMA!"

A light like a meteor burst from the tip of his wand and flew into the air, illuminating the entire area. They could see, now, that they were at the bottom floor of what appeared to be a tiered colosseum with many, many doors on each level. The creatures were pouring from every available door until the room was crowded with an unholy stench that was luckily minimized by their Bubble Head Charms, even though it didn't completely rid them of the odor. The light did exactly what Severus had wanted it to do, which was to blind them. Skinless, bloated bodies cringed and pushed backwards away from the pulsing light in the ceiling. Severus knew that he didn't have a lot of power left, but in the face of so many enemies, it was the most strategically sound thing he could do. Pulling a hunting knife from the leather sheath on his boot, he looked at it dubiously. If one of those things got in stabbing distance, it could disembowel him as well, but a knife was better than no knife, and it was best to be ready. Erheldt and Sanguini had charged at the first wave, their blades rending flesh and causing the creatures to burst like rotten fruit. It made Severus gag, even with the Bubble Head Charm around his head.

" _Nachtenblutegel_!" Erheldt growled. "Hundreds of them. I can't believe that Garbor would-"

"I _can_!" Severus replied loudly with a sneer that Erheldt could not see, as he was too busy beheading another one of the snarling beasts.

Severus cast an Entrail Expulsion Curse on a lunging _Nachtenblutegel_ , jumping back just in time to avoid the blackish-scarlet spray of blood and innards that flew from the back end of the creature. It fell with a surprised look on its face, and even the creatures behind it seemed to have trouble with the stench it produced, as they all pressed back into the doorway.

"That's it!" Severus shouted, "Block the doorways with their bodies- the others won't push by because they can't stand the-"

The stench got even worse as Sanguini burst yet another of the creatures with a well timed slice to the neck, and Severus suddenly found himself vomiting onto the floor without warning. Luckily, his experience with having been tortured by the Dark Lord made him instinctively lean forward, keeping any of it from splashing on his shoes or robes. Beheading them seemed to kill them almost instantly, but the smell of death and rot was so bad that the onslaught was less, now. More and more of them seemed to be retreating or holding back from attacking altogether.

"Come now, you mongrels! What are you waiting for? Kill them!"

Anya was in a rage at her "hounds" being pushed into a retreat, but even the fur on her scarlet face had begun to change into a sickly green, and Severus was sure that even her massive size wasn't giving her much relief from the stench. With a somewhat evil smirk, he cast a Breeze Charm, which magically fanned more of the stench-filled air towards her. It only took a few moments for Anya's eyes to roll back in her head with disgust and she too was sick on the floor, her body shrinking as she heaved and sputtered on the filthy stone floor.

She was still somewhere between human and beast, her skin and hair a light greenish-yellow when Erheldt rested the point of his sword against the back of her neck.

"Do not make me do it, little one," he said sadly, a hint of threat in the back of his throat.

"I...yield…" she gasped, holding out a shaking hand. "Get….back to your kennels! NOW!"

A weaker shock wave passed through the air and the gates began to close once more. The _Nachtenblutegel_ began to moan piteously as they retreated, the wet sound of metal crushing flesh filling the room as the gates closed down over bits of the corpses that had been pushed up against doorways.

"Now, then," Erheldt said, "I think that it is time to do a bit of cleaning up and then you will be giving us all of the answers we need."

Anya didn't look back. She merely hung her head as though filled with utter shame and defeat. Her hair turned black and her skin drained of almost all color, leaving it a sickly, translucent quality. Her body shook with silent sobs, and Severus would have almost felt pity for her had she not just tried to kill them all.

"How do we know she isn't going to escape or transform into someone else and try and kill us?" Severus regarded the defeated woman with suspicion.

"Simple." Erheldt said, extending a hand to help Anya up to her feet, even though she still wouldn't look at any of them. "She will take a Vow, a very specially constructed Vow. If she disobeys the tenants, she dies. If she refuses to take the Vow, she also dies. Is that satisfactory insurance for you?"

Severus felt himself pale, and he rubbed his own wrist where a Vow had kept him shackled for an entire school year. He knew the feeling of the grip of the Vow. It was not something that he would wish on a friend.

An enemy, however…

"Do what you must!" he snapped. "I merely wish to get out of this godforsaken place as soon as possible!"

Erheldt grinned. "Very well, Severus, but I have a proposition that I think you may find very attractive. Sanguini, I know you shall enjoy it as well."

Sanguini, whose blade and robes were spattered with gore and whose shoulders were still heaving as he caught his breath, turned and looked at Erheldt with an intensity that seemed to border on fanaticism.

Severus began Vanishing bits of creature parts with an almost nonchalant flick of his wrist, creating a trail of clean floor towards the door they'd entered through.

"And what might that be?" he asked, keeping his eyes narrowed as though he was uninterested.

"Simple," Erheldt said, his grin widening until his fangs extended fully in a predatory grin. "We merely have to kill a god."


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 50: The Weight of Judgement**

"The evidence is fairly damning, wouldn't you say?" Garbor said, his grin widening as the members of the Council pulled their heads out of the Pensieve.

Many of them nodded and made noises of agreement as they looked over at the form huddled over in the small prisoner's box, her wrists, ankles and neck shackled in silver.

"It is most unfortunate that a Viper we know and trust, Erheldt Schmertz, took it upon himself to carry out a Deathstrike on Severus Snape before learning all of the information," Garbor said, his lips twisting into a momentary forced grimace that was meant to show sympathy. "My sources tell me that it was instigated by Sanguini, who felt such guilt at having sired a vampire that would force a student into such a situation that he took his life not long after. My people are working on putting down the rabid Viper as we speak. We shall scatter Sanguini's ashes per his will, and all of his remaining wealth and assets shall be donated to the Little Vamps Home."

Garbor covered his eyes with the back of his hand as though it pained him to tell the sordid tale, hamming it up just enough for the reporters for the Arterial Spread, the largest circulating vampire paper, to hear and snap a number of appropriate pictures that would paint Garbor as Making The Hard Choices For The Good of All Vampire-Kind.

"Therefore, I motion that one Pansy Parkinson is _guilty_ of the crime of forcibly taking blood from a vampire," Sanguini said, picking up his gavel. "All in favor, say 'aye.'"

The vote was unanimous, save one dark-eyed witch wearing the patterned hijab in the back of the Council's staging box, who wanted clarification on the memories that had shown a shadowy, crazed-looking witch who had dragged Pansy around a number of times.

"Could it be argued that this mystery entity is what forced the accused to do such things?" she asked, her expression sharp and somewhat skeptical.

"It is of no matter," Garbor said with a dismissive wave. "This... _Pansy_...did not have to do as she was told. She did as she was told to have the curse of the Nachtenblugel reversed using powerful Dark magic!"

A murmur ran through the crowd.

"But how is that even possible?" The Councilmember wearing dark purple robes gasped, his eyes going wide with shock. "It is the natural way of our kind. The Gift must be given willingly. If it can be forced with no ill effects, none of us will be safe!"

"This is why, before I was so _rudely_ interrupted," Garbor said scathingly, causing the massive, vampire, who looked more like a bouncer with his shaved head and gold earrings than a creature of the night, to cringe and sink down in his seat. "I was about to suggest that, as an alternative to the _usual_ punishment, we take the opportunity to find out exactly what has happened and how we can protect ourselves against this grave threat to our way of life."

"Prisoner! Do you acknowledge the charges laid against you?" The vampire guard barked at the sorry creature who barely stood in the prisoner's box, her eyes so wide that they almost seemed cartoonish, her pupils tiny and gaze unfocused. Dark lines circled her eyes as though she'd been beaten about the face in a fight.

"P...please….so...H...un...gry…" she moaned, trying to raise her silver-shackled arm and failing miserably.

Everyone seemed to recoil but Garbor, who leaned over his podium with an interested glint in his eyes.

"I shall make the arrangements at once and report back to the Council," he said, his gavel at the ready to slam down and end the hearing. "Now, if there are no further questions…"

The reporter from the paper began waving his hands back and forth as the photographer snapped pictures feverishly. Garbor narrowed his eyes and pretended as though he were looking right through them.

"...Thank you all for attending. The Council is adjourned!" Garbor brought the gavel down with a resounding slam and the guard grabbed the end of the chains, which were covered in a specially treated rubber to avoid burning the handlers, and began to drag Pansy back to the cells below.

"D...raco….dr...dra...co….so...sorry" Pansy murmured brokenly as she allowed herself to be pulled along.

The room seemed to erupt in chaos, then, everyone standing and talking at once as the Councilmembers shuffled out, many of them looking back at the pensieve as though they couldn't help but wonder if another look would yield more answers.

No one saw the hooded vampire with the dark glasses dart out of the back doors.

Garbor waited until all had filed out of the room before rolling up his sleeves and slowly stepping down from his podium, moving towards the doorway that led to the holding cells.

"Ah, yes, my little one," he said to himself, his grin sharp as razor wire. "You shall be an excellent addition to my little...collection...for you have solved my little _scent_ issue. That is, _if_ I can replicate it. Poor little girl. She will be begging for the usual method. But just because I am a god it does not also mean that I am a merciful god."

He chuckled to himself at the play on words and continued down, down into the darkness, his eyes smoldering in the dark like tiny fiery windows into Hell itself.


	51. Chapter 51

**Author's Note:** **I am sorry for the huge gap in posting. I've been dealing with a lot of IRL crap that hasn't seemed to let up for even one minute for the last couple of weeks. It doesn't help that it's also been hot as hell, either. There's no greater drain on energy than lack of air conditioning and excessive temperatures on into the night. However! I promise that I shall finish this story, come hell or high water. So please, without further ado, enjoy….**

* * *

 **Chapter 51: Reunion**

Hermione had never been so glad to have Stanley in her front pocket as she navigated through the sky, her jaw set with determination as she tried not to scream. Flying on a broom had never been, and would never be, her forte. Still, she managed. Unfortunately, thoughts of Severus covered in mortal wounds filled her mind and she had to shake her head to clear her head.

 _It's fine, Hermione. He's very capable. If anything, he's probably the only one who will escape unscathed._

Still, she couldn't stop seeing the memory of Severus lying on the floor of the Shrieking Shack with the blood pooling on the floor around his shredded throat in her mind's eye. She'd made some half-hearted noises about going to collect his body after the final battle while they were tending to their dead, but there were simply too many horrible discoveries of new corpses, their faces frozen in death, that eventually Hermione simply shut down and forgot about him completely. It was only when he had reappeared, those dark eyes glittering with unsaid anger, that she'd had the decency to feel shame.

 _It always comes back to that damn shack._

Stanley squeaked and pulled on her shirt and she angled down, touching down in the shadow of Garbor's building. Sure, it was obvious once it had come into view, but honestly she hadn't realized how fast and far Draco had flown with her in tow. There had only been the thought of escape.

Her heart thudded more quickly as she went around to the nearest window and looked in, growling in frustration when she realized that all of the windows seemed to be made of some sort of one-way glass.

"Well, this isn't getting us anywhere," she muttered to herself, allowing Stanley to climb down her arm until he was sitting on the windowsill, regarding the glass with a quivering nose.

Momentarily, she entertained casting a Patronus, but found that there were two main problems with this idea. The first was that a Patronus would most certainly let Garbor know that she was nearby, which made her shudder with revulsion. But the second was that it still did not solve the problem of narrowing down his location in the massive building.

She could feel her fangs pressing down against her bottom lip as she looked up, wishing she could simply see through the walls like a muggle comic book superhero. Stanley squeaked sadly as he followed her gaze.

 _Even vampires can't pass through walls, after all._

"Oh god, I've been such an idiot!" Hermione smacked her forehead loudly, causing Stanley to jump with a squeak of surprise. And though rats most certainly do not have eyebrows the way that human beings do, Hermione was almost certain that he was arching a brow at her.

 _Severus! I'm here!_

She squeezed her eyes shut and thought the words as hard as she could, hoping that their connection would be strong enough.

 _You better have killed Draco, or I shall be forced to finish the job once I get out of this damned death trap._

His voice sounded rather irritated in her head, but Hermione felt a choked sob of relief rise in her throat and found that she would be happy if he was mad at her forever as long as he was safe.

 _Where are you? Are you safe? Let me help!_

 _ **NO! Stay where you are! I don't want you involved!**_

Hermione frowned.

"He says he doesn't want me to go in there," she explained to Stanley, who snorted. "Yeah, I know, like _that's_ going to happen! I don't know why he expects me to listen to him."

Stanley gave her a look as though to say, _You'd better tell_ _ **him**_ _that, not me._

Hermione snorted. "My thoughts exactly!"

 _Severus, you'd better open the door and let me in, or so help me, I'm going to_ _ **blast through the window!**_

There was a pause before she heard his exasperated sigh fill her head.

 _Has anyone ever told you that you are insufferably Gryffindor?_

Hermione grinned as she heard a string of curses fill her head and the sound of heavy boots clomped along the floor inside.

 _I believe that you have used the word_ _ **insufferable**_ _to describe me more than once, Severus._

She heard a hollow clicking noise around the corner of the building; the telltale rattle of a deadbolt sliding open. There were more clicks and the sound of locks clicking open, but Hermione forced herself to stay put until the door opened so that she could minimize the risk of being seen, even though there didn't appear to be any guards outside of Garbor's home. Even though he was still on the other side of the door, she could smell his distinctive scent, and it filled her with the heady desire to press her nose against his throat, to nuzzle against the soft skin of his collarbone and tenderly sink her fangs into his flesh. A second flash of desire filled her, but she knew it was not her own. She could tell that he felt the same way from the breathy sound of his voice in her mind.

 _So I have. Come, then. I see no reason to argue when I know you well enough to know that you have no qualms in getting your way, regardless of the...consequences._

Hermione held her arm out so that Stanley could climb up onto her shoulder. He tucked himself into the space between the neck and the shoulder of her cloak, his tiny snaggy claws holding onto her sweater tightly. Only his head stuck out from his little hiding spot, and Hermione could feel his little whiskers tickling against her cheek when she turned her head to look at him and ensure he was securely in place. Hermione found the warmth of his small furry body to be rather comforting, actually. It was almost strange to think that her opinion of rats could be so easily changed from disgust to a fondness bordering on affection, but it wasn't hard considering that her only other real experience with rats had been Scabbers, who hadn't really been a rat at all, at least not in the way that counted.

"I guess it's now or never, then," she muttered, more to herself than anything as she finally heard the doorknob turn. "Right, then. Stanley, are you ready?"

The rat squeaked his assent and Hermione hastily Disillusioned herself, sprinting around the corner and up the front steps, her wand at the ready. She barreled through the crack in the door, the sheer velocity of her inertia pushing the door open with a bang. She could hear Severus stifle a shout as she knocked him backwards onto the floor, landing on top of him, her body shimmering like an oil slick as it became visible once more. She grasped the front of his robes, not caring that there was a slight stench in the air around her and pressed her nose into his chest, nuzzling him like a cat. She didn't know if the other two vampires were there, and at the moment she didn't care. There was only Severus, his scent, the feeling of his chest rising and falling shallowly as he recovered from his shock. He was all that mattered.

Well, that is until she felt Stanley crawl around the back of her neck like a tiny rodent shawl and squeak irritably in her ear.

" _Sorry_ , Stanley!" she said softly, cringing as she realized that the poor rat had probably not appreciated her overzealousness one bit.

"Far be it from me to keep you from apologizing to someone other than the person you're using as a mattress," Severus said, his voice somewhat thick from having the air knocked out of him suddenly, "But I do believe my bony arse is rather done being intimately acquainted with the floor."

"I love you too, Severus," she replied somewhat sarcastically as she pulled herself up until she was sitting on him, her smirk widening when she caught the speechless expression on his face.

When he realized he'd been caught, his eyes darted over to look at the wall, as though trying to pretend that she hadn't affected him in the least, but that was short-lived. Hermione made certain of that by bending down and kissing him on his cheek, pulling a stray strand of hair that had flopped across his nose behind his ear and wrapping her arms gently around his neck. Moments later, she could feel his arms around her, drawing her close and squeezing her tightly.

She could hear Erheldt chuckling from behind her as the ancient vampire closed the door, and felt a stab of self-consciousness for just a moment. But then, _then_...she could feel Severus nuzzling against her neck, the sharp points of his fangs dragging lightly against her skin until she shivered with delight.

"You had better abandon ship, Stanley," Severus purred against Hermione's pulsepoint, "Or I shall not hold myself accountable for accidentally nipping at your tail in my enthusiasm."

Stanley made a rather undignified squeaking noise as Stanley scurried down from his hiding place and Hermione snorted quietly with laughter.

"Please tell me that I did not just get cursed out by a rat," Severus whispered, his lips tickling deliciously against Hermione's ear.

"I would, but then we both know that I would be lying," Hermione whispered back, her fangs slipping lower until they were fully extended.

"We really shouldn't do this on the front step of our mortal enemy's house, you know," Severus murmured, the tip of his tongue running lightly against Hermione's neck as though readying her for his bite.

"Just because we _shouldn't_ doesn't mean that we _can't_ ," Hermione whispered back, her breath hitching in her throat as her head filled with need. "Besides, I thought you already knew full well how difficult it is for me to stop myself from running headlong into danger."

Hermione wasn't sure whose fangs slid into whose neck first, but the moment that they were connected, it was as though a circuit had been completed. Hermione could feel the power fill her as she fed from her mate, the feeling of their hearts beating together in perfect harmony as they filled one another with power once more.

Hermione was vaguely aware of the sound of others dropping to the floor as the shockwave of their reunion hit them, but as Severus tightened his hold on her, his body humming with delight under hers as she snuggled into his robes, she found that, inconvenient place or no, she never wanted to be separated from him again.


	52. Chapter 52

**Author's Note:** Sorry again for the long space between updates. I've been working on this slightly longer chapter for the last couple of days but sleep has claimed me before I could finish and post it! However, I have some happy news! Today is my birthday! YAY! So to celebrate, I took the day off from work and finished this chapter! I hope you enjoy learning all about Anya's background and giving voice to the question of how in the hell they're going to defeat Garbor once and for all...if such a thing is even possible!

* * *

 **Chapter 52: Raised by Wolves**

"So, does that happen... _often_?" Anya panted, her cheeks a deep scarlet.

Severus glanced over with narrowed eyes as he tried to think of something scathing to say to her, but found his eyes widening with surprise instead. Anya's head and shoulders were normal, but the rest of her body had become shaggy and wolf-like. She lay on her back near the far wall with her paws splayed out, her fuzzy stomach bared, as though begging for belly rubs. Severus shuddered as he remembered the time that Tonks had changed her body into a massive blue heron and jumped out of his Potions closet, which had caused him to shriek in surprise. He'd given her twenty detentions for her prank, which had seriously affected his well-developed authority in the classroom, but she'd laughed the entire time.

"Who's the...fuzzy one?" Hermione asked, and Severus couldn't stop himself from turning back to look at the adorably confused expression on her face, his heart doing flip flops in his chest as she looked at Anya and back at him again.

"That's Anya. Apparently she's a vampire as well as a Metamorphmagus." Erheldt was leaning against the other side of the wide entrance hall with Sanguni quietly leaning back into his embrace. "I hear such a condition is rare. I knew Anya as a child. Had I known that Garbor wished to take her, I would have intervened."

"Would you have, though?" Anya's voice was quiet and oddly flat. "I didn't want anyone's help. Garbor promised me power, safety..."

"At the cost of your soul!" Erheldt replied sharply.

"Hah! As though _you_ know anything of souls!" Anya replied vehemently, her voice softening suddenly as though she no longer saw any point in arguing. "It is done, Erheldt. There is nothing that you or anyone else can do to save me."

Hermione stood and pulled Severus up gently, her hand never leaving his as they turned to face Anya, whose hair was going a stormy blue. Tiny tufts of silvery red hair had sprouted from the tops of both ears to match the rest of her fur, and it was obvious that she'd started to develop a slightly protruding muzzle, the tip of her nose going back like a canine's.

"He promised me what I've always wanted, Erheldt," she said sorrowfully. "You should know better than anyone how skilled he is at finding your weaknesses. It is so easy for him to take you once he knows exactly what it is you need."

Her words hit Severus harder than he'd expected, and he staggered back a step as the memories rose in his mind. He could see a younger version of himself begging on his knees to Dumbledore to be taken in and redeemed. He had almost used the exact words when he'd tried so hard to explain what had possessed him to take the Mark.

 _What's wrong?_ Hermione was rubbing his thumb with her finger as she looked up at him, projecting her thoughts into his head clearly.

He smirked slightly at this. She was getting better.

 _Just...this brings back memories..._

Hermione fixed him with an incredulous look.

 _You turned into a wolf? When?_

Severus snorted loudly despite himself. He didn't have the heart to tell her the exact details of how closely he'd come to becoming a wolf...of sorts.

"Care to let us in on the inside joke?" Erheldt asked, arching an eyebrow.

Anya whined, her voice more like a dog's than a human, arching her back so that her fluffy belly was prominently displayed.

"I kinda want to pet her," Hermione mused quietly to Severus, who arched his brow at her quizzically.

Anya's half-wolf-ears pricked up and a too-long-to-be-human tongue lolled from the side of her mouth.

"Yesh, pleash," she said, her tail wagging back and forth against the ground.

Hermione took a step towards Anya, stopping only when she felt Severus squeezing her hand gently. He did not want anything to happen to Hermione, not after everything that had happened.

"Remember, Severus, she's taken the Vow. If she tries anything funny…" Erheldt trailed off. He knew he didn't need to remind anyone of the certain fatal outcome.

Still, Severus squeezed Hermione's hand and strode over with her. Hermione bent down and began rubbing Anya's fluffy tummy while Anya's eyes closed happily and she panted her muzzle more dog-like than ever.

"She was raised by wolves, you know," Erheldt said sadly, though no one had asked. "No one knows anything about her family or her human parents, for she was adopted by her pack long before she learned to speak. I found her in the springtime. She must have been five years old then, and already able to change into a wolf. At first, I thought I was hallucinating when I turned from my fire and found a dirty, naked child with fuzzy wolf ears looking up at me as she held her tail in her hands. Though wolves are very different than werewolves, they are intelligent. They knew that I was different than most humans. I was not a threat. I would have asked her to come with me, but the wolves were her family and she was so young. It would have been a cruelty."

Anya's mouth began to change into a human face once again and she scoffed loudly even as her tail thumped happily at the feeling of Hermione's fingers stroking her fur.

"What the village did to me after was a cruelty," she said sadly, her voice choked with the memory of what had happened. "They found that I could change, and they killed my pack! Hunters shot my mother, my father, even my siblings! I was made to watch so that I would not run away, so that I would know that they could never, ever come back. They forced me to learn how to walk and talk like a human. They forced me to change into shapes that I did not care for. They turned their wands upon me when I did not do as I was told."

Hermione gasped softly. "It was a wizarding village?"

"Yes," Anya said bitterly, "and after a decade of brainwashing, I almost believed that they'd done what was best for me."

Erheldt nodded. "I remember seeing you once more that night at the bonfire."

Anya smiled, but her eyes were sad. "At first, I didn't realize it was you, but then...all the old memories washed over me and I could no longer lie to myself. When I found out your true nature...it became my dearest desire to be as you are and to get the revenge on those who wronged me. Garbor offered it to me."

Hermione stiffened, her hand drawing back. "What does that mean?" She asked uncertainly.

"Garbor helped me to drain dry every single one who murdered my family in front of my eyes and then tried to beat the wolf from my body. There was one man who...forced me to do other things with my gift, things that make my body grow cold when I think of them. He was the last to die, choking on his own blood. We did not feed from his tainted fluids." Anya rolled onto her side, the top half of her body down to her shoulder blades growing hairless and human once more. "The village was very remote, and they say that the deserted streets are still stained red with blood. You must understand. Garbor understood me. He respected and engaged my love for affection without forcing me to mate. For one such as myself, infertility is an added blessing, not a curse! I was only seventeen when I Changed, but already so many of the village men wanted to breed me, as though I was only good for creating more of my kind mixed with the foul heritage of those monsters!"

Hermione shuddered. The thought of being raped by an entire village and forced to bear children on the off-chance that they would also inherit their mother's gift was abhorrent.

"I know that Garbor wants...your future daughter," Anya said, her eyes running over Hermione's stomach, which caused Hermione to instinctively cross her arms as though to protect the tiny sprout of life inside of her safe, "but I can tell you that he has always treated me well. I have served him for over two centuries and he has afforded me every courtesy."

"So easily you forget the horrible things you said about Hermione earlier," Sanguini said skeptically, bending down and handing Stanley some cheese.

Anya sat up and immediately her ears flattened to the sides and she tucked her tail between her legs as she registered her shame.

"Garbor told me that she had defied him, that she was borne of the vampire sired from the previous vampire that defied him. I had no reason to doubt his word. But...I will admit that I was jealous at the thought of his time being taken up with a new favorite consort." Anya turned to look up at Hermione, her eyes filled with tears. "Please accept my apology, Hermione Granger. I did not mean to cause you such distress."

Hermione had flattened herself halfway behind Severus at the bloody and violent admissions of the metamorphmagus before her, but she stepped out, extending her hand cautiously to shake.

"I can't promise that I will forgive you completely," she said magnanimously, "but I wouldn't be a proper Gryffindor if I didn't try."

Anya shook her hand with a furry half-paw, placing her other hand over Hermione's and squeezing it firmly.

"I must also confess that you are rather skilled at tummy rubs. Do you, by chance, have any prior experience?"

Hermione thought for a moment and then nodded.

"Back at Hogwarts, the caretaker, Hagrid, well...he has a large dog named Fang."

"Sounds ferocious!" Erheldt said with a smirk.

"Well, the first thing you have to know about Hagrid is that he generally names his...er... _pets_ in a manner that is the exact _opposite_ of said pet's innate disposition." Hermione looked over at Severus and saw the corner of his mouth quirk upward in amusement.

"Elaborate, please?" Sanguini asked, looking puzzled.

"Let us just say, for the sake of clarity, that the man procured a massive cerberus several years ago and decided that the most appropriate name for the beast was 'Fluffy.'" Severus made the motion for quotation marks with his fingers as he spoke and everyone but Hermione goggled at him with shock.

"English may not be my first language, but that…" Anya trailed off, looking shocked.

"My thoughts exactly," Hermione said with a knowing smirk.

Erheldt clapped his hands together suddenly and everyone jumped before looking in his direction.

"So!" he exclaimed, "Now that we are all acquainted, shall we continue to Garbor's library and see if we can find the information that we seek?"

"That would be amenable," Severus muttered with a scowl, "especially if it means that it keeps your attention-getting shenanigans to a minimum."

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a shameless spoilsport?" Erheldt asked, his voice rising in mock indignation.

Severus grinned wickedly, the tips of his fangs sliding down past his upper lip.

" _Numerous_ times," he replied, his eyes glittering dangerously. "Sanguini did not teach me to fear my elders and Dumbledore ruined my respect for those in power. And as much as I assume Garbor will want to stroke his own personal circlejerk during his little circus down at the High Council, I highly doubt that he will be away forever."

"Agreed," Hermione said, squeezing his hand, "If you are thinking of doing what I _think_ you're thinking of doing, then we best begin our search immediately."

Anya stood, her fur rippling into skin and clothing once more as she rose to her full height.

"This way," she said, indicating the door to their left. "It will be dangerous, but I do have some ideas about where he may have hidden the key to his undoing."

"Why would he do that? I thought he'd burned all records of his kind's existence," Hermione said, her brow furrowing.

"Garbor thinks very highly of himself, and for good reason," Anya replied waving her hand dismissively, "He would never dare think that anyone would be so foolish as to slip under his nose. He is immensely powerful, even more-so than you imagine. He is proud of his trophies. It is how he strokes his ego."

"Among other things," Hermione half-whispered to Severus, who snorted with amusement despite the seriousness of the situation.

"I will drop the wards, but you must be warned, the air inside is kept filled with poisonous gas that can irrevocably damage any breathing creature, including vampires. Do not speak, do not breathe. If you must communicate, tap my shoulder and use hand signs or write on parchment."

Hermione knelt down and placed her hand out to Stanley, pulling him up to her face and allowing him to whisker-kiss her nose.

"Be good now, Stanley," she said smiling warmly at him.

He squeaked indignantly as though to say, _And exactly what else do you think I would be, huh?_

She let him down on the small, thin table that stood flush against the hallway next to the door and he turned his back as he picked up his half-eaten cheese, pretending to ignore her.

But as Anya dropped the wards and the door swung outward, Stanley turned back to see the shimmering bubble-like seal around the doorframe and watched each of the vampires take a deep breath before stepping through it as though there was nothing there.

Stanley's whiskers twitched and he let out a tiny squeak that sounded even tinier in the long hallway as though asking a question, but it was too late.

They were gone.


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 53: The Underground Vault**

Hermione was increasingly glad that she'd improved in the art of silent spell-casting, but she was utterly amazed at how seamlessly Anya worked with her wand. A number of doors flew open with a practiced flick of the now violet-haired vampire's wrist and Hermione could feel the shiver of a neutralized ward as she passed through every doorway in the long, twisting chain of hallways and rooms. Rather than the more modern furnishings above, the stone and metal around her gave off a foreboding, oppressive atmosphere.

Of course, that might also have simply been due to the ever-present thought of the poison gas filling the air around them.

It felt almost as though they were navigating an endless maze made of long stone hallways punctuated by round, open, windowless chambers, and Hermione was unnervingly reminded of the Indiana Jones movie she'd seen where the characters had been trapped in an underground tomb. Belatedly, she wondered why she hadn't simply used a bubble head charm, but then she remembered that the charm generally worked by sucking the oxygen from the water around the spellcaster and something told her that Garbor was at least clever enough to hide his most precious possessions using a precaution that would not be easily defeated by the average seventh year Hogwarts student.

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt as Anya stopped ahead in front of a rather nondescript wooden door on the left side wall of the hallway only feet away from yet another open, empty room and held up a hand to signal the others to stop as well.

Silently, she rested the side of her head against the door and Hermione had to bite her inner lip to stop from snickering when she saw long, pointed wolf ears rising on either sides of Anya's head. Pointing the tip of her wand directly at the door, Anya made a complicated series of twists and turns with her wrist.

Hermione sorely wished that she could open her mouth and ask what was going on behind the door as a loud series of thumps and clanging noises issued from the room beyond, but she knew that speaking up would not only cause an extremely unwelcome distraction but there was the tiny and inconsequential matter of dying, which she knew would put a decidedly large damper on their evening.

With a final, deeply resonant click, the door came loose from its frame and Anya pulled it outward with very little effort. A shimmering, bubble-like membrane was stretched across the doorway in all directions, similar to the one that they'd stepped through from the hallway. They all waited patiently for Anya to go through first, though Severus kept the fingers on his free hand tightly entwined with Hermione's and pulled ahead of her slightly so that he would be the first to go through. The windowless room beyond was small and cluttered, featuring a wooden desk piled up with papers and various non-magical paintings on the wall. The only ornate things in the room were a pair of massive stone basilisk statues on the far wall, their bodies turned to the side so that they stared at one another, their fangs bared. After the maze of halls and rooms they'd just traversed, it looked out of place, like a stuffy professor's study in the middle of a medieval castle. Which, considering that such things could be found at Hogwarts, the sparsely decorated yet cluttered space wasn't alien to Hermione, but she still found it odd, especially due to Garbor's unabashed flair for the theatrical and the expensive. She had to admit, the basilisks were the only thing that really fit that theme.

"The air in here is safe to breathe," Anya said, turning to look at the four vampires who had assembled in a messy half-circle behind her. "Garbor found that the poison interfered with his magically imbued tomes, and it led to a rather _messy_ situation during its installation."

Hermione sighed with relief. Though she didn't feel the ache from holding her breath that she would invariably have been experiencing had she tried to do so before having Changed, it was still disconcerting to breathe so rarely. It was a habit that she couldn't help but desire, like the physical craving she always got for tea when the sky went gray and the air grew cold.

Hermione looked around the room, but other than a couple of books on one side of the desk, she didn't see any others. She wrinkled her nose with disgust. The books were covered with dust and one appeared to have a rather large stain on one side. Garbor seemed to treat his books the same way he treated people, which made Hermione hate him even more than ever.

"Dare I ask what sort of poison gas your... _employer_...has so graciously filled his underground labyrinth with?" Severus asked sardonically, smirking slightly at the look on Hermione's face. Her mouth was frozen open with the beginning of what was obviously the same question.

Hermione sniffed and turned her head away from Severus, but she didn't pull her hand away from his.

"That...is something that only Garbor himself knows." Anya stared at the floor, the corners of her mouth twitching downward as though this were an old argument. "He does not trust me as much as he says he does. I suppose, considering all that has happened, he was right not to do so."

"Why are there no guards posted around his building?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious.

Anya looked at Hermione with a somewhat skeptical look.

"Well, first off, there's the fact that he's the most powerful vampire in the Underground, and quite possibly the world. He can destroy a vampire's societal standing in less than ten minutes. For those of us who live in the margins of mortal society, this is a fate worse than death. Some say that he takes some of the prisoners from their cells and does... _things_ to them. Many speculate, but whether it is true or not, I cannot say. If it is, he hides it very well."

"Forgive me for not being surprised," Hermione said with a scowl, "but I realized that he was both evil and powerful the moment I met his pompous arse, since I am neither deaf nor blind."

Hermione blinked and looked up at the dour professor with surprise. She could hear Severus laughing ruefully in her head, but his face betrayed no emotion beyond disdain.

"Let me guess," Severus drawled, "the whole 'cannot be killed, even by a Vow' thing puts him at an automatic advantage against any opponent, so he sees no reason to keep an army?"

"Oh, no. You saw his army earlier. The problem is, without being properly treated in the vats...most of the...soldiers...begin to fall apart within a week."

"You are, I think, referring to the Nachtenblutegel?" Erheldt asked, his eyebrows furrowing. "I just want to know how he makes them in the first place. It would involve forcing vampires to give blood to mortals against their will. The Blood Curse would do the rest, but to create so many of them...it seems impossible. However would he be able to accomplish such a thing?"

"He has been doing it for a long time, Erheldt," Anya said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You could not have known. I have only been involved for the past fifty years, and even then, it's only in commanding them. There are wards in place in the tunnels to their kennels that only allow their kind through. I have no access to the place where they... _live_."

"If you can call it that," Sanguini said with a shudder.

"Actually, I would not be surprised if Garbor is using those vampires he supposedly _takes_ for his own purposes to make those...things...in the first place," Hermione said, wrinkling her nose with disgust.

Everyone stared at Hermione, their incredulous expressions turning to horror as they began to connect the dots. Sanguini shuddered violently, burying his face in Erheldt's jacket as though trying to banish the mental image.

"Do you think that he meant to do that...to…?" Anya looked at Hermione, her face growing pale.

"We really shouldn't be standing around here discussing Garbor's little hobbies as though we have all the time in the world, you know," Severus said shortly, his hand slipping from Hermione's with a slight squeeze as he pulled ahead and strode purposefully towards the cluttered desk, "Instead, you should be helping me look for the information on stopping him!"

Hermione followed him, her fingers itching to touch the unloved books that she'd seen earlier.

"No, you don't understand," Anya said, "This isn't the room we need to search. This is just the facade he keeps up at the front."

"What do you mean?" Sanguini had untangled himself from Erheldt and was squinting his eyes as he leafed through a dusty stack of papers.

Anya sighed and abruptly pulled the stained book from Hermione's hand. Hermione made a strained squeak in protest, but she was too late. Anya placed the book in the stone mouth of the basilisk to her left. The eyes of the great stone snake rolled silently in their sockets until the pupils were no longer visible and the statue turned to face them, revealing a doorway.

"This side is the library, and that side," Anya grabbed a faceted metal paperweight that Erheldt was inspecting and placed it in the other basilisk's mouth, ignoring the incredulous looks she was getting from everyone in the room, "is the trophy room. Both are large and it will take time to go through everything. We really ought to split up, don't you agree, Hermione?"

Anya's voice was so full of longing for praise, that it was a wonder she didn't grow a tail and start wagging it. Her eager eyes followed Hermione, who had moved at inhuman speeds towards the basilisk statue with the book in its mouth. Hermione worried at her bottom lip as she ran her fingers over the stonework, but her eyes were on the darkened entryway. Now that she knew what was on the other side, she could barely contain her excitement.

"Come on, Severus, wouldn't want to keep the library waiting, would we?" Hermione asked excitedly, turning back to look at him with wide, curious eyes.

Severus joined her, his dark robes whispering against her body as he turned to face Anya with a distrustful expression.

"I believe that the two of us will be sufficient. Nobody is as skilled as I am at finding something in the stacks save Hermione. You three can sort through the trinkets and see if you can't find a terribly convenient immortal-vampire-killing-amulet."

"Then I suppose that Anya will come with Sanguini and I," Erheldt said gently, placing his hand on Anya's shoulder.

"Indeed!" Sanguini said, linking arms with Anya on her other side.

"What? But- hey!" Anya called out as she was pulled through the second doorway.

Hermione and Severus sped through the doorway and down a short, dark hallway that opened out into a large, well-lit room filled from floor to ceiling with books.

"It looks almost as large as the Hogwarts library!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Hermione, I have an idea, but I do not think that you will like it," Severus said gravely, his dark eyes meeting Hermione's with a sense of weary resignation.

"What do you mean by that?" Hermione replied, her nose twitching with confusion.

"First, do you have your beaded handbag? We will need it."

"Yes, but what do you-?" Hermione pulled the bag from where it had been tied under her robes.

"We cannot necessarily defeat Garbor, but we can cripple him. We shall take as many books as we can and place them in your bag. Anything that could possibly help, we can throw inside. But the rest...Garbor cannot be allowed to have so much damning knowledge at his fingertips. Knowledge is power, but the antithesis is true as well."

Hermione nodded, though the thought of destroying books made her feel ill. Still, they had much to do, and neither of them were sure when Garbor would return.

They set to work, gathering materials as quickly as possible. They'd emptied out a good number of bookshelves, but there were still too many books. Hermione was the one to cast the Fiendfyre as they stood near the opening to the hall that would lead them out to the basilisk doors. Hermione had to blink to clear her eyes of the tears as the massive snake-like head burst from her wand and engulfed the room in flames. They held hands, running back into the office. Severus grabbed the book from the basilisk's mouth, and it rolled closed again. There was only a slight scent of smoke to even hint that anything in the library was out of place.

The others hadn't returned, but Severus proposed that they wait fifteen minutes before rushing into the trophy room.

"Hmm," Hermione said, using a finger to trace the bloody streak that wrapped around from the front cover to the spine of the book, "Let's take this one too."

"Very well," Severus replied, his face growing a little warm as Hermione lifted up her robes so he could reach the handbag.

"I don't think I'll ever tire of seeing that," Hermione said, a cheeky smile playing across her lips.

"What, exactly?" Severus grumbled back.

"The way you look at me when I let you see my naughty bits," Hermione replied, pulling up the robes and skirts even more to show off her knickers.

Severus rubbed his lips together, his fangs sliding over this bottom lip as he tried not to stare and failed miserably at it. He knelt down on one knee and placed the book on the floor, wrapping his long arms around her thigh and leaving a trail of kisses up her sensitive skin until he reached the soft cloth of her undergarments.

"I cannot help it," he said breathlessly between kisses, "You draw me like no other, my love."

Hermione moaned softly as his fingers slipped up higher and caressed her in deliciously intimate places. In moments, she had lost herself in the pleasure of his touch. When he finally stood and pressed his lips against hers, all thoughts of books flew from her mind completely.


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 54: Unsavory Discoveries**

Hermione and Severus heard Erheldt and the others before they saw them. Hermione spun in his arms, the back of her body lying flush against the warmth of his dark robes and she smiled as he placed his long arms around her waist, holding her protectively. She hoped that the blush across her cheeks wasn't a dead giveaway of what they'd been up to moments before.

Erheldt was wearing a giant metal faceplate that looked as though it had been torn off of a suit of armor. He also had a number of things gathered in his arms, from a couple of different looking spears to a longbow and a bunch of odd-looking strands of what looked to be bells slung around his neck, even though they were completely silent as he walked. He held a small chest against himself, keeping everything in place as he walked. Anya came next, a belt around her waist with various bulging bags tied to it. There were a couple of bracelets adorning her wrists and forearms and there were a few rings on her fingers that had not been there before. Sanguini brought up the rear and Hermione nearly burst out laughing. The tall, thin vampire was bent over nearly to the middle as he held a large sack against his back. Even though he did not have the customary bandit mask on, he looked uncannily like a cartoon robber from Saturday morning cartoons come to life.

"We grabbed what we could," Erheldt said tiredly, his eyes widening as he pointed at the basilisk that Hermione had closed. "Is there a reason why your door is... _smoking_?"

Severus looked somewhat skeptical at this, but a quick glance toward the smoking stone snake proved that Erheldt was not joking at all. Wisps of grey poured from the serpent's nostrils and mouth, giving it an almost draconian appearance. A strangled cry formed at the back of Hermione's throat, and she backed away towards the open door and the shimmering ward that kept the air in the study separated from the toxic fumes beyond.

Logically, she knew that it wasn't real, but all she could think of was the giant fiery snake's head coming for them as they'd flown through burning piles of garbage that horrible night in the Room of Requirement. That massive face, full of fury. That horrible expression as it bared its massive fangs. The feral, reptilian joy of the strike. It was coming, coming to kill her...to kill everyone she'd ever loved...just like Nagini...and she'd done nothing, she was nothing...she was...

" _Hermione! NO!_ " Severus cried out, moving so quickly that he was a dark blur.

He grabbed her and pulled her back just as her wrist slid through the translucent barrier.

Hermione blinked rapidly, trying to hold back tears.

"It's my fault...all my fault…" she mumbled, burying her face in his robes.

Severus smoothed her hair gently and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"You may be a glutton for punishment, Hermione, but running off into a toxic maze is extreme, even for you," he said sardonically, but there was no true bite in his voice.

If anything, Hermione was almost certain that she could hear fear in the way he spoke to her, as well as how firmly he held her against his body, partially in comfort, but also as though he was desperately seeking comfort. As she pressed her face against him and turned her head to the side, she could hear his heart beating wildly, like that of a mortal, and knew then that she was correct.

"It's okay, Severus. I'm okay now," Hermione reassured him, "You're right, I was being an idiot."

"You're putting words in my mouth, Hermione," Severus said, arching an eyebrow at her, "You may be a know-it-all and a typical headstrong Gryffindor at times but you are anything but an idiot."

"Are you two finished with the goo-goo eyes and ready to get out of here? This thing isn't getting any lighter!" Sanguini whined, pretending to struggle with the heavy bag on his back.

"What did you guys put in there anyway, lead bricks?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"No, but I think there's a small gold chest in there somewhere," Erheldt replied, frowning, "Why, are lead bricks known for their magical properties?"

Hermione shared a look with Severus and shook her head.

"Do not concern yourself with the specifics, Erheldt. Time is of the essence. We should head back before we run into Baron Von Asshat again," Severus said darkly.

Hermione snickered quietly into his robes for a moment until she was able to collect herself again.

With a deep breath, each of the vampires steeled themselves and then ducked through the doorway and out into the poison-filled hallway. Hermione was glad that her beaded handbag magically absorbed the weight of the many things inside as she watched Erheldt and Sanguini struggle to carry the things they'd grabbed from the room. Belatedly, she realized that maybe they could have placed their items in there as well, but then she remembered that the bag only opened so wide, which would mean that it would take awhile to get everything inside, and time was definitely not something that any of them had on their sides.

In any case, they moved quickly in the halls, and though they did not meet anyone or any _thing_ , Hermione had the unsettling feeling that they were all being watched.

* * *

One by one, they all tumbled out of the door into the front hallway, exhausted. Stanley squeaked loudly, running to Hermione's ankle and hugging it tightly.

"Hello to you too, my little hero!" Hermione said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, relieved that she could breathe normally again.

"What do-" Erheldt started, but no one ever found out what he was about to say next.

The locks on the front door began to click and slide back one by one as someone on the other side of the door fumbled with what sounded like a large ring of keys.

"Shit!" hissed Anya, "Garbor is back! Run!"

No one needed to be told twice. Hermione scooped Stanley up and placed him up in her chest pocket. Severus thoughtfully cast a Silencing Charm on both Sanguini and Erheldt to stop the clanking as they moved. They ran back down the hallway towards the dining room with the curtain at the end of it. Everyone crowded behind it, breathing a sigh of relief when the long, velvet material touched the ground, obscuring their feet.

"Well, now what do we do?" whispered Sanguini bitterly. "Oh, I just know we're going to die in here! Or worse! Become new food for Garbor's….monsters!"

"Shush!" Severus replied quietly, "I can hear footsteps!"

Everyone held their breaths again, though this time it was for a completely different reason than before. Footsteps rang out in the hall and they listened intently for what was being said.

"...will find that I am a generous master, Pansy," Garbor was saying.

Hermione's eyes widened with shock as she looked up at Severus, noticing that he'd begun to look rather ill. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He squeezed it back gently, but he turned his gaze down to the floor, unable to look at her.

"Well, that's all well and good," Pansy's voice echoed as they passed the dining room and moved further away, "but when am I going to eat? I'm starving!"

"I believe I have a solution…." Garbor's voice was indistinct, now, even with superior vampiric hearing abilities.

Finally, the sound of indistinct voices and wood shifting under weight as Garbor and Pansy climbed the stairs was all that they could hear.

"We must leave before they reach the colosseum at the top of the stairs and find out that I am not there!" Anya whispered urgently, her eyes wide and full of fear.

There was a loud WHOOMP noise as Sanguini dropped his bag of stuff.

"Ow!" Erheldt exclaimed from behind his hand. "Why did you-?!"

"Look!" Sanguini cried hoarsely, his voice breaking as he pointed one pale finger at the object behind them.

It had been obscured by the lack of light behind the curtain, but as everyone's night vision kicked in properly, it was almost easier to see than the light of day.

Hermione turned to look, as did the others. Her hands flew to her mouth and she gasped, at a loss for words.

"That _bastard_!" Sanguini growled through gritted teeth, his fangs extending completely. "All this time, and I never knew! He was going to reveal it earlier before we interrupted him, too!"

Severus squeezed Hermione's hand firmly as they all stared at the tank that stood before them.

Sanguini pressed his fingers against the cool glass, bending forward until his forehead was pressed against it as well, his shoulders drooping with pain.

"Oh, my sweet, dear Musette," he said softly to the figure that floated inside, "What has that _monster_ been using you for all of these years?"


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 55: The Undead Mermaid**

The figure in the tank gently bobbed up and down as Sanguini slammed his fists against the glass. It didn't make any noise, as Severus had cast a Silencing Charm the moment he'd seen Sanguini's hand tighten into a fist, but Anya flinched and moved to stand next to Erheldt, who had maneuvered somehow and pushed the faceplate up in the armored helmet he was wearing. His eyes were hidden, but Hermione could feel the waves of cold fury pouring off of the ancient vampire's body, and she pressed against Severus, seeking comfort in his heat.

"I thought you knew," Anya said quietly to Erheldt, who shook his head slowly.

Sanguini turned, pinkish tracks trailing down both of his cheeks. His face contorted with pain and anger and he advanced on Anya, his wand drawn.

" _You_!" He growled brokenly, "It is your fault that my beautiful Musette is here, that she is being used somehow by that maniacal bastard!"

Anya darted behind Erheldt, her fuzzy wolf's ears flat against her head as her hair turned white to mirror her fear.

"No!" She shouted, baring her teeth fearfully, "I was only told she had been preserved so that they could find a cure!"

"A cure?! Tell me, _hound_ , does THAT look like it can be CURED?!" Sanguini shouted, pointing back at the massive black crack that ran down Musette's forehead and neck down to her nude shoulder, giving her the appearance of a broken china doll.

The pale silvery white of her skull could be seen peeking out from the wider parts of the wound on her forehead. This was even more noticeable as her skin had gone a strange shade of blue, other than the purple tinge at her lips and eyelids, which gave her a haunted look. As she turned in the tank, her long hair floated eerily behind her, giving her the appearance of having two feathery wings, Hermione could see where her skull had been flattened in the back. The true horror of the killing blow was obscured by her hair, and Hermione was grateful for that, at least. Still, her stomach churned as she looked down at the sunken abdomen, a reminder of the other tiny flicker of life cruelly snuffed out far too soon. Her eyes widened as she remembered Sanguni's earlier words.

"Garbor was going to _show_ her to you?" She whispered to Severus, who was beginning to look rather irritated at Sanguini's theatrics.

"What else do you expect from a man whose favorite thing appears to be causing suffering to others, isn't that _right_ , Sanguini?" Severus replied, speaking extra loudly so that Sanguini would hear him. "I get it. You're in pain. You feel like your heart has been ripped out a second time, and you're left with a fresh wound over old scars. Well, not to sound heartless, but welcome to the bloody club! All of us have suffered! All of us have darkness in our pasts, our presents and, most likely if we actually survive this ordeal, darkness in our futures as well! There will be time for you to grieve once we destroy the monster who did this to Musette!"

Sanguni whirled, his eyes wild with blind, animalistic fury.

"You dare to tell _me_ , the vampire who _sired_ your sorry, bony excuse for an arse, _what to DO_?!" he shouted, waving his arms wildly, his wand moving in a wide arc as an angry spell built upon his lips.

Severus raised his wand but Hermione moved far more quickly.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" she bellowed, the energy of her spell sending sparks of energy through the room until the air felt heavy with electricity.

Light shot out of the tip of her wand like water from a fire hose and Sanguini's wand flew from his hand as his body was slammed backwards through the curtain and skidded across the long dining room table, knocking all of the place settings to the floor with an incredibly loud crash.

"SHITE!" Hermione swore, realizing that in her haste to protect Severus, she'd likely alerted everyone within a five mile radius to their presence.

As if to prove her right, the sound of shoes thundered down the stairs and Anya let out a long, high pitched whine.

"Anya, the doors!" Erheldt said urgently.

Anya ran shakily to the double doors and closed them as quickly as possible, turning the latch that locked the doors together.

"I thought that the plan was to be as _quiet_ as possible so that we could regroup with a possible way of defeating Garbor," Severus said unamusedly.

"Plans change, Severus," Sanguini said, his voice husky as he pulled himself up to standing with great effort. A smoking hole was blasted in the center of his robes and he took his wand gingerly from Erheldt, who fixed him with a weary look before drawing his own wand. " _My_ plan is to kill Garbor or die trying! You can do what you want"

"Enjoy dying, then!" Severus replied angrily, glancing at Erheldt as though trying to convince him to talk sense into the shaky-legged vampire.

"If he wishes to fight, then I shall stay by his side," Erheldt replied gravely, squeezing Sanguini's shoulder. "I will not abandon you, old friend."

"Yeah!" Sanguini's right ankle rolled to the side and he staggered sideways into Erheldt, who had to prop him up to stand, "We'll find a way! Not like you and your miserable doom and gloom!"

"Are you two even listening to yourselves?!" Hermione cut in shrilly, "You sound like you've gone mental!"

"I'd rather be mental than a bloody coward!" Sanguini crowed, raising his wand into the air feebly.

"I AM _NOT_ A COWARD!" Severus fumed, his hands balling into fists.

Hermione tugged his sleeve. "Severus, it looks like Sanguini is still suffering from being hit with my spell. He doesn't mean it."

"Says _you_ ," Sanguini replied, sticking out his tongue, which looked even more silly than it would have otherwise due to his fully-extended fangs.

Meanwhile, Erheldt had pulled Sanguini's arm around the back of his neck and was half-dragging him to the far side of the room.

"Anya, help me," he grunted, as Sanguini slumped, his eyes closing as his wand clattered to the floor.

"Oh for the love of Merlin!" Severus groaned, "Hermione! Do you have some Pepperup Potion in your bag?"

"I..I think so!" Hermione cried out, lifting up her robes without a thought to the impropriety of flashing her underthings to everyone in the room and pointed her wand into the bag. " _Accio_ _Pepperup Potion_!"

It flew into her free hand with a soft thwack and she tossed it to Severus, who caught it with a grimace.

"Believe me, I would rather be doing anything but this!" he sneered, holding open the unconscious vampire's mouth as Erheldt cast an _Ennervate_ on Sanguini.

Sanguini's eyes opened wide as he realized just who was looming over him and Severus took Sanguini's choked cry of surprise as an opportunity to pour the entire bottle down his throat.

Sanguini coughed and sputtered, but amazingly seemed to be able to swallow most of the potion, and he looked far more energetic in moments.

"There! I knew you'd come to your senses! The final battle is at hand!" Sanguini said firmly, patting Severus on the shoulder.

Severus simply scowled and drew back out of reach, training his wand on the entrance to the dining room.

" _A dining room is hardly the place for a climactic battle with an immortal being_!" Severus hissed, glancing back and glaring daggers at Sanguini.

Hermione rolled her eyes and patted her chest pocket lightly from where she crouched behind the table, aiming her wand at the door. "Are you alright in there, Stanley?"

There was no reply. Hermione chanced a glance downward and a cry of distress caught in her throat. Her pocket was empty.

"Stanley? Stanley?" Hermione whispered, crouching lower to the ground and looking around.

She was already kicking herself for putting so much power behind her disarming spell, but it hadn't been completely intentional. She'd only known that her mate was in danger and reacted instinctively to protect him. She was secretly glad that Harry had drilled only non-lethal/painful spells into them back in their fifth year, for they were the most likely to come to mind when she was in danger, and Hermione did not like the thought of killing unless she absolutely had no other choice.

Stanley was nowhere to be found.

Hermione tried to tell herself that this was probably a good thing- he had probably run somewhere to take cover. After all, being in a pocket while spells were flying about was probably a terrible idea.

Still, she wished that she could have at least said goodbye and known for sure that he was safe.

"I guess I'll have to see you after all of this, then," she murmured to herself.

"What was that?" Severus said, crouching down behind the table next to her.

"Oh...nothing," Hermione said, staring back at the door, which was still closed. "But...there's something about all this that's bothering me."

"What is that?" Severus replied, frowning slightly.

"It's just that we could hear their footsteps before...but now…" Hermione leaned forward, hearing the whisper of his robes next to her as Severus leaned forward with her.

It was then that they heard the creak of the wall sliding open behind them and Severus only had a moment to throw his robes around Hermione as the two of them raised the strongest Shield Charm they could muster.

But, for all of his blustering, Severus had been right.

A dining room was a terrible place for a climactic final battle against an immortal being...and Pansy Parkinson, for some reason.

Hermione wasn't sure if she even wanted to know why.


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 56: BOOM**

The dining room was filled with deadly spells flying through the air. Hermione had flipped the long table over and was crouched behind it with Severus at her side.

"I suppose that it is a good thing this table is spell-treated," Severus said wryly, as another nasty Slicing Hex made contact with the wood and rebounded with a sharp hissing sound. Hermione felt her lips twist into a wicked grin when she heard Pansy yelp and the accompanying crash of her body slamming against the floor as she dodged the rebounded spell.

Hermione nodded, looking around for an exit and finding none.

A chair flew over their heads and exploded against the far wall.

" _That_ is how your beloved Severus will look when I am done with him! Now, get up and come quietly or I shall pull his arms and legs off like an insect and force you to watch!" Garbor shouted, his voice ragged and full of rage. "I am a _GOD_! I demand that you do as I say!"

"NEVER!" Hermione shouted, levitating the bits of splintered wood that were left of the chair and flicking her wrist so that they flew back towards the far wall at a high speed in a wide spread. She grinned angrily when Pansy shrieked and the sound of a body slamming down to the ground again echoed through the room.

"Good thinking." Severus smirked at Hermione and pointed his wand at the remaining slivers and bits of wood, sending a second spray towards the far wall moments later, prompting another scream from Pansy.

Meanwhile, she could see blasts of energy flying out from where Erheldt and Sanguini were hiding, which was outside of her field of vision. This seemed to keep Garbor and Pansy from being able to make much headway, but it didn't seem that she or Severus could get much in the way of spellwork accomplished.

They were at an impasse.

"Or are we?" she muttered under her breath, moving her wand in a series of tight twists and turns, the words forming in her brain until she could practically see them before her eyes.

"What was that?" Severus shouted, sending several place settings of silverware flying with a flick of his wand.

Hermione met his eyes and mouthed _BOOM_ as a small blue arrow appeared on the floor in front of them and spun for a moment before pointing to their immediate right.

Severus merely fixed her with a perplexed look and glanced over at the wall on their right as well. Decorative plates stood on wooden shelves, their interiors full of moving pictures. He sneered at them with disdain.

"I fail to see how a non-corporeal arrow can destroy a wall," he drawled, but she could see he was intrigued.

"Oh, the arrow is just to show us which wall is the closest to the outside," Hermione replied conspiratorially, shuddering as a heavy spell hit the table and it bowed against their backs, the wood groaning with the impact, "which is just as well, because I doubt that this table is going to hold up much longer."

She threaded her fingers through the fingers on his free hand and pressed her forehead against his. Touching him slowly filled her with a warm, radiating power until she felt as though she could bring down the entire structure around her with little effort. It was no wonder that the _Animavinculum_ were so rare. A world filled with such power would burn to ash in a week.

 _Cast Bombarda with me_ , her mind whispered to his.

 _A rather...explosive plan. I like it._ His voice was in her head as he pressed his lips to hers. As though it had closed a circuit, Hermione could feel herself thrumming with power as Severus looked back at her, his pupils wide with wonder. The energy grew so strong that the air around them crackled and Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the spell in her head until she could bear it no longer.

Their eyes snapped open simultaneously and they moved together in perfect synchronization.

" _BOMBARDA_!" they roared together, pointing their wands at the wall.

The wall didn't explode so much as it seemed to _launch_ away from the other three walls with a horrible, dry, _WHOOMPH_.

Garbor let out a rage-filled cry. "You still won't escape! Even if you try to run I will find you and destroy you!"

The wall skidded out into the street and curled backwards over against the fence that lined the building next door. Hermione noted that only one of the plates on the wall had remained intact on the sadly drooping shelves. Severus pulled a bottle from his robes and tossed it high into the air, shattering it with a bolt of energy from his wand.

A tiny white cloud appeared, growing darker and larger with each passing second. Lightning flashed inside of its thick, swirling depths. As it grew, it spread downwards until everything was obscured. Garbor shouted something unintelligible, but it was drowned out by the sound of thunder rolling through the ruined room. Hermione and Severus ducked down at the waist as they ran towards the opening in the wall, dodging spells, which thankfully flew over their heads. Hermione's heart soared as two bats popped out of the mist above them, Garbor's cries growing more and more indistinct as they turned the corner.

"Do you think you can manage your wings?" Hermione's voice wavered as she chanced a glance at the silently running man beside her.

 _If you can, then I shall_ , came the sombre voice in her mind.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and leapt into the air, feeling her body changing underneath her as arms shifted into leathery wings. With a gleeful squeak, Hermione climbed higher into the underground sky in bat form and her heart soared as she heard a familiar answering squeak beside her.

If anyone had told Hermione that she would be flying through an underground vampire city as a vampire bat on the run from an unspeakable ancient creature that was likely immortal, she would likely have thought them crazy, especially if it was Trelawny making the prediction.

But, as hot blasts of underground air filled her wings and she floated up into the magically swirling sky, she felt, more than ever, that she would never have it any other way.


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 57: And Then There Were Five**

Four bats landed in front of the tall, gray building, their bodies shifting into human form once more. It was only then that Hermione realized that someone was missing.

"Where is Sanguini?" she asked, looking up at Erheldt, whose face seemed twisted somehow, even though, at first glance, it seemed devoid of any overt emotion.

"He...did not want to leave _her_." He looked at the ground, his voice flat.

Anya stood to the side, awkwardly wringing her hands as black hair fell long and shaggy over her eyes. Two tiny, wolfy ears poked out from the top of her head, drooping to the side as Erheldt turned away, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

Hermione felt a stab of guilt as she realized that she had most likely left Stanley in Garbor's home. And then she remembered that she'd left Erheldt's broom...Erheldt's obviously _very expensive_ broom...behind as well.

"Instead of standing on the street twiddling our thumbs like a bunch of exposed idiots, I suggest that we regroup in your apartment," Severus said shortly, his eyes darting around warily.

Erheldt pointed his wand at the door with a nondescript grunt and they entered, taking the stairs up to his floor in silence.

Erheldt unwarded and unlocked the door to his apartment with a heavy sigh and they filed in. The first thing that Hermione noticed was that Draco was still sprawled out in the chair near the darkened fireplace, snoring loudly. Hermione stifled a snicker at the drool dripping down the corner of his mouth.

"UP!" Severus shouted angrily, sending a swift kick to the leg of the chair, which skidded back across the floor a few inches.

"UWAH!?" Draco yelped, his eyes snapping open as he nearly flew over the armrest onto the floor.

"Good to see that you've decided to rejoin the land of the living," Severus said tersely as Draco flushed with embarrassment.

"What's your problem?!" Draco retorted, his eyebrows scrunching down into a scowl. "I did what you told me to do! I got Hermione out of-!"

He cut off as he realized that Hermione was standing next to Severus in human form, her clothing covered in dust and debris.

"You were _saying_?" Severus said with a sneer.

Draco paled. "But...she…and…then...but _how_?!"

"We get it, Draco," Hermione said with a smirk, "you do a fabulous impression of a gibbering idiot."

Severus turned his head slightly and looked at her with an arched brow.

"You are not exactly free from blame, yourself, Hermione," he said sharply, "You could have been recaptured. Or _worse_!"

"And exactly what would you have had me do?" Hermione replied, putting her hands on her hips, "Leave you there, not knowing if I'd ever see you again? I would never be able to forgive myself if I could have done something to help! I may not know everything about vampires or the _Animavinculum_ , but I know for a fact that the thought of living in a world without your in it fills me with panic and a pain that squeezes my heart until I feel that I will suffocate."

"I'm not-!...I'm... _not-_ " Severus started, hiding behind his hair as he turned to face the window, ignoring Draco's shocked expression.

"What? _Important_? Is _that_ what you're telling me?!" Hermione growled, advancing on him. "That how I feel means _nothing_ to you?"

" _No_!" The strangled cry that erupted from his lips sounded more like a yowl than a word.

" _Look at me_!" Hermione cried fiercely, pulling him to face her by the front of his robes. He did not struggle or fight her, though his eyes were still shadowed by long strands of dark, greasy hair.

A strange noise passed through his thin lips, and Hermione looked up at him with wide, sympathetic eyes, even though her eyebrows were furrowed with frustration.

"Do you even love me at all, or are you simply being compelled against your will?" she asked, her voice small as she pulled the hair behind one of his ears, revealing a wide, watery eye that was blinking rapidly to keep from crying.

The eye closed tightly, then, and a thin trail of moisture ran down his cheek. Hermione pulled him close to her, squeezing him tightly.

"Of _course_ I care," he rasped into her hair, as he set his chin on her shoulder, his long arms snaking around her, "I care so much that I feel as though I might die from caring, from the terror that fills me at knowing that you are not safe."

They stood, holding one another tightly, for a long moment before Hermione nuzzled his neck, pulling down at the fabric tenderly. Her fangs slipped out from her upper lip as she gently broke the skin on his neck. Moments later, he was doing the same to her, and the room filled with a strange sensation that flitted between pleasure and bittersweet happiness.

* * *

Draco was still frozen in the chair, his eyes wide with shock. He'd known, of course, but he hadn't really _known_. He looked back at the other two people who had entered. Erheldt and...Anna, was it? He couldn't be sure. They had conveniently disappeared into another room, or was it two different rooms? Draco stood awkwardly, running his hand through his hair, though neither Hermione nor Severus seemed to notice him at all.

A strange heady feeling went through his belly, and he realized that, somehow, _they_ were the source of it. There was more to this whole thing than he could have known. He turned towards the open loo door and dashed inside, closing it behind him firmly. He ran cold water over his face and looked in the mirror with irritation.

"Ugh, I look like hell," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair again so that it would slick back at least somewhat. He used a couple of charms on his face to give himself a somewhat healthier glow, but it wasn't really that convincing. Sleeping in chairs did not lead to a well-rested wizard, after all.

It was then that the sound of a loud, cold voice seemed to echo through the air around him, bringing back shuddering, terrified memories of a certain dead Dark Lord who had done the same thing.

"ERHELDT SCHMERTZ, HEAR ME NOW WHEREVER YOU MAY BE. I HAVE YOUR SILLY LITTLE BOYFRIEND. IF YOU DO NOT BRING THE GIRL THAT IS RIGHTLY MINE TO THE FRONT DOORS OF THE COUNCIL WITHIN TWENTY MINUTES, I SHALL HAVE NO QUALMS IN CONDEMNING HIM TO A NICE, CIVILIZED PUBLIC BEHEADING FOR HIS CRIMES. BRING HER AS A SIGN OF YOUR LOYALTY AND ALL SHALL BE FORGIVEN. THINK HARD ON YOUR ALLIANCES, OLD FRIEND. I AWAIT YOUR REPLY."

The thundering voice cut out and for a moment, Draco was shocked by the silence that filled the air. Then, before he could reach the door, a massive roar and a loud bang filled the air and there was the sound of a heavy impact. Something landed so hard against the door that the wood nearly splintered. There was a loud, chuffing breath at the door, as though a massive animal was on the other side and Draco slunk back against the far wall, his eyes wide with terror.

There were a number of shuffling noises as something large moved around the room with great effort and then a door slammed.

All was silent.

Draco stepped forward, his hand reaching for the doorknob when he realized he'd stepped in something wet. Looking down, a small, scarlet puddle was beginning to collect under the door. Twisting the knob violently, Draco tore the door open, looked down and saw a dark, slumped form lying against the ground.

Immediately, he stepped back into the bathroom and yanked a towel down from its rack. He stepped over the still form of Professor Snape and searched frantically for the wound. There was a deep set of claw marks running down his shoulder on one side, and it appeared that he'd been Stunned as well, as he appeared unconscious. Draco looked around for Snape's wand, but couldn't seem to find it. First, he pressed the towels into the wound and, not knowing what else to do, pulled out his wand.

"Ennervate," he said softly, jumping back when Snape jerked back to consciousness and attempted to lunge at him.

" _Hermione_!" Severus bellowed, his eyes searching the disheveled room wildly as he tried to stand up.

"Sir, you're hurt!" Draco exclaimed, trying to push Snape back down. "You're going to lose a lot of blood if you keep moving around like that!"

But Snape wasn't seeing Draco. His eyes flashed as he clawed at Draco's robes.

"That bastard! He _took_ her!"

"Sir! Stop! You need to-Aughhh!"

Snape's fangs extended, long and pointed like a snake's and he lunged in his blind rage, biting down hard on Draco's forearm.

Draco immediately went from feeling pain and outrage to a strange sort of bliss as he felt his blood draining out of him. Time seemed to slow and Draco found himself kneeling on the floor as though in a trance. It was only when Snape's eyes finally cleared and he realized what he was doing that his fangs abruptly retracted and he flew backwards against the wall looking mortified.

"N-no!" Severus said, obviously horrified at what he'd done.

He clutched at his chest where Draco had pressed the towel to stop the bleeding. It came away without any new blood welling up against the tears in the fabric. Severus pulled the ripped fabric aside, pressing his fingers against the pink ridges that stood out against the pale skin on his shoulder and chest instead of torn flesh. Draco's blood had obviously provided him with enough healing to close the wounds. Draco found himself feeling somewhat proud about this, though he couldn't say why.

"We must go after them with haste!" Severus snapped loudly, pulling Draco to his feet.

"But...Sir…" Draco replied somewhat dreamily. "Yer wand…"

Severus patted his chest and whipped his head around looking for it.

"Draco!" he barked. "There is no time! Cast _Accio_ for my wand!"

" _Accio_ Professor Snape's Wand!" Draco said, grinning as though it was a hilarious thing to say. "It sure is nice to help you, Professor! I wanna come with you to help save 'ermione too!"

"Absolutely not!" Severus replied angrily, catching the wand as it zoomed through the air and nearly hit Draco in the face. "I've weakened you by thoughtlessly taking your blood, and now you have far more venom in your blood than will make you useful! Just...stay here!"

"I'm not a child!" Draco pouted, "You cannnuh make me!"

"FINE!" Severus shouted angrily, "But if you hold me back, so help me-!"

"I know, Prof'sser," Draco slurred, his face growing artificially stern as he tried out his best Professor Snape impression, " _I do not tolerate dunderheads_. That 'bout right, sir?"

"Indeed," came the curt reply, "Now, then, we must hurry."

Snape ran for the door.

"Where are you going?" Draco asked with a small giggle.

"To rescue Hermione, you idiot!"

"Why not use these, instead?" Draco was pointing towards the open bedroom door. On the far wall hung a number of brooms, displayed like trophies on silver hooks.

Severus gave Draco a look that was half-impressed and half-gobsmacked. Draco simply smirked, his eyes growing somewhat less glazed over than before.

In moments, they'd both grabbed a broom and moved towards the open window.

"This is your last chance to back out," Severus said sharply.

"Are you kidding? I'd rather die!" Draco shouted, jumping out of the window and shooting into the air on his broom.

"That's what I'm worried about," Severus muttered under his breath as he kicked off and was off like a shot behind Draco towards the certain horror that awaited them ahead.


	58. Chapter 58

**Author's Note:** I'm really, terribly sorry for the big gap in posting. This is largely due to sickness, family drama which no one wants to hear about, and the sadness of winter creeping up on me (seriously, it's a real Thing due to the lack of light in the winter months). So yeah, it's been hard to write. This is going to be a somewhat violent chapter and I need to warn you that there's a short description of rape near the end (because Garbor's a dick). I promise, no cliffhangers this time, and we aren't actually done yet, so for those of you who are hoping to see Stanley again, do not despair!

* * *

 **Chapter 58: Time Waits for No One**

"You do know that he's just going to kill you both when he gets me, right?" Hermione shouted shrilly at Erheldt as she lay on her stomach wedged against him and the back of Anya's large, red, furry head. She was in full scarlet wolf-lion-badger-fox-monster form, loping along at a rather speedy pace down empty streets. It probably helped that Garbor's anger had carried so far. It seemed that no one was willing to get in his way and suffer his wrath.

She would have hexed Erheldt...if her wand wasn't being held firmly in his clutched fist. She mentally kicked herself for letting her guard down so easily, though she couldn't actually kick herself, as she'd been tied with invisible ropes until she felt like one of those women who got tied to the railroad tracks in silent Muggle films.

Besides, Erheldt had never told her that he was an ally. In fact, everything he'd done had been done for Sanguini. Hermione felt her chest fill with another surge of futile anger.

 _That's right. And after all I've been through, I should have known better than to trust him. Idiot!_

Erheldt sighed, his pained look giving her pause.

"You do not understand," he said, looking away and staring at Hermione's wand instead, "Garbor does not play around. I do not know you, Hermione, not in the way that I would need to know you in order to trust you to help me. There was a chance that you would not wish to come to the rescue. It was a chance that I could not take."

To Hermione's surprise, he tucked her wand up her sleeve. As she opened her mouth to speak, he held his hand up and she waited to hear what he was going to say.

"Here. I may not always make the best decisions, but I am not the kidnapping bastard you seem to think that I am. I will weaken the bonds on your body once we stop, but you must break free on your own. He must not know my treachery or Sanguini will die. Do you understand?"

"But why didn't you just tell everyone that back in the apartment?" Hermione asked incredulously, "I'm sure that Severus and Draco are livid... _well_...Severus will be livid and Draco is going to be terrified of Severus and willing to do anything to stop him from looking more frightening than usual."

"Hermione, look at me," Erheldt said, his voice deep with grief, "Do you think that I don't realize that? I am counting on them to come for you. They will provide a distraction."

"You're _still_ a bastard!" Hermione hissed back, "We were going to go in as a team to fight Garbor _together_ and you destroyed any hope of properly following through with the plan! Sanguini is an adult...er... _vampire_. He can make his own damn decisions about his life! We were already in enough trouble without you coming up with terrible plans that will likely get most of us killed!"

Erheldt reeled back slightly and for a moment, Hermione was certain that he was about to strike her. Instead, he steeled his jaw and muttered, "I have nothing left to say to you."

Hermione spent the rest of the short, jarring ride attempting to wiggle free of her bonds without much success beyond a rather nasty rope burn. All attempts to change into her bat form were an utter wash. She'd obviously expended too much energy with her earlier flight and she was certain that being hit with a Stunning spell hadn't helped matters. Her fangs slipped down past her lips in an angry snarl and she could feel the skin around her wrists burning as though they were on fire as she struggled.

"Bastard!" she shouted as they came to a stop.

"Was that one for you or for me, Erheldt?" Garbor's voice made Hermione's skin crawl. "Ah, no matter. Come, grab your little broken boyfriend, but _she_ belongs to me."

Hermione's body went rigid at the implications of his words.

"Musette is dead, Sanguini! Can't you see that it's not worth it to stay by her side?" Erheldt's voice broke slightly as he finished speaking, and Hermione felt a twinge of sympathy even as the disgust and fury she felt at his betrayal twisted in her belly.

"Oh, but she is not dead, Erheldt," Garbor jeered, "Her mind, perhaps, has been gone for many years now, but her _body_ , well, other than the useless brat I had to _remove_ , is still _functional_. Even now, she draws Sanguini like a moth to the flame. She has no will of her own, true, but her blood still produces the finest Nachtenblutegel I have ever had the joy of commanding. Say, Sanguini, perhaps you'd like me to remove your beloved from her tank so that you can have your way with her right here with everyone watching. I'm sure Erheldt would be most amused by your fruitless attempts to replant her womb with life!"

Garbor laughed nastily at his awful joke as Hermione felt herself be lifted roughly up to a sitting position with her feet swung over the side of wolf-Anya's elephantine shoulder.

"Do you want to make the trade, or do you want me to slit her throat?" Erheldt growled, his fingernail sharp against Hermione's neck as he yanked her head back.

"Oh, Erheldt, Erheldt. How you have retained such naive sentimentality after such a long time continues to amaze me. It is _Sanguini's_ choice." Garbor's voice was filled with a false sense of magnanimity but his eyes were cold. "Why don't you ask him?"

"I...I cannot leave her, Erheldt. She is...my…" Sanguini's voice was drained and his eyes were bloodshot from crying.

"Now, then, Pansy, it is your time to show me that you appreciate the cost of your freedom," Garbor said cruelly, "I find myself tiring of this ridiculous banter. Bring Hermione to me alive. Kill the others."

The sharp point of Erheldt's nail disappeared from her neck. Hermione heard him snap softly behind her back and the invisible ropes disappeared.

"New plan," he whispered out of the side of his mouth, "We fight."

Hermione turned her head to look at him with a scathingly sarcastic expression.

"Oh, _really_? Do you _think_?" she scoffed, sliding her wand down her sleeve into her hand. "Wait, why are you covering your ears?"

A strange word escaped Erheldt's lips that seemed both alien and familiar at the same time. Hermione had no idea what it meant, but Anya's muscles tensed under them and Hermione shot a curious look at the massive beast.

Suddenly, Anya howled long and low, the rumble sending ripples through the air around them. Hermione followed Erheldt's lead and covered her ears with her hands. She and Erheldt then turned and slipped off of the other side of Anya's back as Sanguini, Garbor and Pansy reeled back at the sheer magnitude of the sound.

Anya took a defensive position, her scarlet fur standing on end, and she howled again, her body growing even more massive than before. Her lips curled back, revealing teeth as sharp and long as swords.

"How the fuck am I supposed to fight that?!" Pansy screeched, her eyes wide as she rubbed her ears.

"You are a Nachtenblutegel. Use your power! You are no longer a puny, weak little human, even though you appear to have retained your puny little human mind!" Garbor urged angrily. "Let me put it in a simple way that even someone like _you_ can understand. Kill _her_ or I will kill _you_!"

Pansy furrowed her brow and raised one of her legs, freezing it mid-step. Then, she brought it down hard on the ground. A giant circular dent caved in around the impact of her foot. Pansy looked up with a widening, horrible grin.

"I'll _kill_ you, you monster!" she screamed at Anya, pulling out her wand and shooting across the ground at an inhuman speed.

In the chaos, Hermione and Erheldt had slipped behind a bank of well-manicured bushes that led up into the Council's chamberhall. They were crouched down as Erheldt glanced through the tiny gaps in the foliage at Sanguini, who was standing by Musette's tank as though he were a statue. How the tank had even gotten there was a mystery, but Hermione assumed that, presumably, Garbor had levitated it to the front of the building to increase Sanguini's humiliation with a public display.

"All who defy me will fall!" Garbor shouted, "Now, sure, I was hoping to spend some more time building my army, but what the hell! Since you all asked so politely, I shall show my hand."

Garbor pulled out his wand and began to gesture as though he were conducting a symphony, and immediately, they could hear the ground rumbling once again. Hermione peered through the bushes and saw that monster-Anya was attempting to bite through some large, spiny vines that Pansy had conjured, her paws raking at the air and shredding Pansy's jacket, which knocked her backwards with a shriek. But it was not monster-Anya's howls that made the ground move so violently. Within moments, the stench reached Hermione's nose and she had to cast a Bubble Head Charm in order to prevent herself from vomiting.

Slimy streams of disgusting, bloated, veiny monsters were crawling out of the shadows, their needle-like teeth protruding from mouths thrown wide in an eerie, silent scream. They did not sing as they had for Anya, but their mouths wheezed and hissed until it sounded as though they'd stumbled upon a snake pit. Hermione steeled herself for battle as the creatures began to appear everywhere as though by magic, and perhaps it was. None of them had wands, it seemed, but their teeth were threatening enough, and they were ready to kill. A circle of the putrid monsters closed in on Sanguini, but he had apparently snapped out of his daze with the arrival of such a noxious threat. He decapitated one with a slicing hex and blasted another to pieces, but still they came, their claws and teeth bared. Sanguini blasted them away from Musette's tank with a fiercely protective snarl, but there were so many that it was obvious he was growing weaker. It was then that Hermione realized that Garbor had disappeared.

"Erheldt!" she hissed just as he let out a cry of anguish and rushed blindly through the hedge, blasting large jets of power into the throng of monsters as he tried to close the distance between himself and Sanguini. Hermione could see why, now. One of the Nachtenblutegel had jumped onto Sanguini's back and was trying to tear into his neck. Erheldt blasted the creature off, but it looked as though Sanguini was injured and he stumbled once before falling to one knee.

It seemed, then, that time slowed down to a crawl. Hermione could see Sanguini falling as Erheldt roared, his body growing dark with ancient power as he summoned it from within. Erheldt's wand was no longer in his hand, but his fingers were growing longer and his nails became like daggers. His eyes glowed a baleful red and his fangs extended so far that they were nearly to the tip of his chin. And then, suddenly, time seemed to speed up and Erheldt was moving through the air like a blur, leaving trails of sliced Nachtenblutegel flesh behind him.

"Ah, there you are, my sweet Vessel," Garbor's voice was silky in her ear and Hermione couldn't stop herself from screaming as she twisted and shot him point blank with an Expelliarmus. With a smirk he batted away the spell and grabbed her around the wrist, pressing painfully tight until she dropped her wand.

"I am stronger than you are, Hermione," he grinned, "I am much, much more powerful than you can even imagine with your tiny, breeder brain. That tiny life that I desire for my own is, after all, the only reason I haven't slit you open from chin to hip-bone. I imagine that your Severus will be here soon. Won't he enjoy watching his _Animavinculum_ be taken by a god who is superior in every way? Let's find out, shall we?"

"You disgusting pig!" Hermione shouted, struggling in vain, "You and your sick fascination with rape and murder! You are not worthy to be a god. You are not even worthy to be the ground that one of your _Nachtenblutegel_ walks upon!"

"Oh, _really_?" Garbor screwed his lips into a fake pout. "Is that truly the best you can come up with to insult me? I do not request what I want, I tell you what I will take, and you will fall like all the rest. Let me show you what I see in your future, breeder. I think it shall break your mind to see it, which will please me immensely."

With that, Garbor grabbed Hermione's chin roughly with his other hand and, before she could close shut her eyelids tight, he'd forced her to stare into his eyes. Hermione felt as though she was falling down an elevator shaft from the top of a very tall building and when she opened her eyes again, she was back in the room that she'd been in before, the one that Stanley and Draco had helped her to escape from earlier. But this time, there were bars on the windows and Hermione found herself looking around at the floor. It was strewn with dog toys, a water dish and a large dog bed.

"Come, my pet! It's time for your meal!" Garbor called, walking into the room with a debonair flourish.

There was a strange noise on the ground and Hermione turned, her eyes widening as she saw herself, naked and hugely pregnant, crawling on all floors with a dog collar around her neck. The eyes on this version of herself were vacant and bright as though all rational thought had been purged from her mind.

Hermione immediately felt as though she were going to vomit again as she watched herself sit up on her knees and Garbor abruptly shoved his cock into her mouth. He fisted her hair and shoved himself down her throat as she gagged and slobbered everywhere. It was disgusting and humiliating to watch.

"No teeth, my pet," he hummed as he pulled back and began to fuck her face, "Or I shall be forced to remove them all. Manually."

A terrified whimper came from the other Hermione, but no matter what Hermione did, she found she could not interact with either Garbor or this broken version of herself. And no matter how many times she tried to turn and run from the room, she'd suddenly find herself back and facing the terrible spectacle.

"Now, then," Garbor said with a smile as the other Hermione fell to the ground gasping, her face dirty and flushed from the effort it had taken not to choke, "Let's use the other end."

Hermione gasped and, since running had achieved nothing, attempted to turn her head away, but Garbor was suddenly behind her- the _real_ Garbor, and his hands were like steel as he forced her to turn and look back at the terrible scene unfolding before them.

"Oh, you simply _have_ to watch it all," he whispered cruelly, "After this, there is much, much mo-"

Hermione blinked.

The terrible scene vanished abruptly and she could move her body again. She blinked again.

"-mione? _Hermione_!" A familiar frantic voice was growing more and more distinct with every passing moment as her vision began to clear.

"Se...verus?" she mumbled, feeling the air nearly knocked out of her at the force of his embrace.

"-thought I was too late….I thought I'd lost you...forever." His muffled voice was half in her hair as he wrapped himself around her like a great bat.

"But...where is Garbor?" Hermione asked, confused. "Did he get away?"

"I...stopped him," Severus replied, his eyes growing dark and solemn.

He pointed to something on the ground. It was Garbor's lifeless body.

Hermione gasped.

"But...how? Are you...sure?"

"He was doing something to you with his legilimency!" Severus growled, wrapping his arms around her tightly again, "I could feel your soul _screaming_ with anguish! I couldn't...I couldn't let him hurt you anymore."

"You used the Killing Curse." It wasn't a question.

"If there had been any other way…" Severus stared into Hermione's eyes, his expression pained. "I would not have done it otherwise."

"I thought that he was immune to it, though," Hermione said numbly, more to say something than to actually start a conversation. The horrors that she'd just seen were still vivid in her mind and she was desperate to prove that none of them would _ever_ come true.

"You were _fighting_ him with your strength of will, Hermione," Severus said, kissing her softly on the forehead, "You forced him to exert his power to keep you where he wanted you, and that gave me the opening I needed. His Legilimency is more advanced than any I've encountered, including the Dark Lord. I am impressed at your strength, my love."

His voice filled her mind, his presence warm and calming as they held one another. She mewled slightly when he nuzzled her neck gently to push away her hair and fed upon her, pulling back the hair on the other side of his neck so that she could feed as well. Her fangs extended instantly and she relished the tiny burst of breath against her neck as Severus sighed with delight.

"Whenever you two are finished with your little lovey-dovey reprieve, I could _really_ use a little help here!" Draco shouted from nearby as he blasted another Nachtenblutegel into a slimy explosion of rancid meat.

The ringing in Hermione's ears and the distorted nightmare that Garbor had forced upon her mind finally began to fade as the feed came to an end, and she turned, her fingers still entwined with her mate's.

"Your wand, Hermione," Severus said, handing it to her with an unabashed look of utter devotion.

"Thank you...for everything, Severus," Hermione whispered back, squeezing his hand.

" _Really_ could use a little help about now!" Draco shouted as a Nachtenblutegel grabbed hold of the other side of the broom he was holding in one hand and proceeded to play a horribly grotesque version of tug-of-war with him.

"Hermione, stay with me. I cannot say why, but I am stronger when you touch me," Severus said softly, "but don't tell anyone that."

"Wouldn't want anyone to think you're going soft?" Hermione arched one eyebrow and gave him a half-smirk.

"Heaven forbid," Severus replied, a slight edge of humor in his voice.

"Well, then, after you," Hermione said, gesturing with her wand.

"No, Hermione," Severus said as he squeezed her hand tightly, "Let us go together."

"Together sounds good," Hermione replied, grinning as she summoned her courage and they charged into the thick of the battle.


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 59: Rest in Pieces**

The battle was disgusting and bloody, but blessedly shorter than Hermione had originally thought it would be. The streets ran pink and blackish-red with rotting blood and slimy tissues as the creatures burst and dissolved under their attacks. Hermione and Severus worked together as one, their bodies moving in perfect symmetry as they destroyed the putrid sacks of flesh and fury that bore down upon them. The Nachtenblutegel were frenzied but sloppy, their sense of purpose lost without Garbor's guidance. As the hissing sigh of their souls finally broke free of the rotten, fleshy prisons that served as their bodies, Hermione could hear pleasurable sighs emanating from their hissing, toothy maws.

 _Thank you._

 _Free. Finally._

 _I can rest at last._

Hermione glanced over at Severus who gave her a knowing look in return. Apparently, he too had heard the whispers.

Hermione really hadn't given much thought to what it would be like to be transformed into a Nachtenblutegel as, ostensibly, one would not transform into such a vile creature unless a mortal took a vampire's blood unwillingly. As Hermione was horrified at the thought of what amounted to a type of rape, she hadn't realized that perhaps the mortals who had become Garbor's foot soldiers might not have had a choice. She could imagine a sobbing mortal being forced by Garbor to choose between death and drinking from a goblet of cold, dark blood; blood unwillingly taken from Musette's comatose body.

"They're slaves- trapped in dead, bloated bodies that are already decomposing," Hermione whispered, dispatching the final Nachtenblutegel by twisting her wand in a sharp, slicing motion. "I thought that nothing could be as disgusting as an inferi, but appar I was wrong."

"It isn't your fault that even after his demise, Garbor is the shithead who keeps on giving," Severus drawled, _Vanishing_ the putrid mess at his feet and _Scourgifying_ the splatter on Hermione's boots for good measure.

Hermione felt the hyperfocus from being caught up in the heat of battle dissipating and she finally looked around at their surroundings. Musette's tank had been knocked over in the scuffle, but the lid on the top and the glass appeared to be intact, save for a small crack on one side. Erheldt had shrunken down to normal size once more, his fingers stroking Sanguini's cheek as he held the wounded vampire in his lap. Pieces of Erheldt's fine jacket had been torn into strips and wrapped around Sanguini's back and belly. Even under the dark material, Hermione could see where blood had seeped through. Apparently, wounds wrought by the _Nachtenblutegel_ negated the vampire's usually speedy healing abilities, which, Hermione supposed, was probably why Garbor was keeping an army of them under his home. Suddenly the apparent lack of guards or security made a lot more sense, as did the empty streets devoid of even a single vampire rubbernecker. Though, perhaps, that was more due to the terrible smell. Hermione had gotten somewhat used to it, if one could truly get used to the smell of rotting, bloated flesh, but she still felt ill. It would take a number of showers and baths and hours of cuddling, preferably naked, with Severus before she could even begin to think about eating.

Perhaps, in an attempt to prove her wrong, Hermione's stomach gurgled very loudly, and her eyes flew wide as she crossed her arms in front of it, as though this would make any difference at all.

Severus turned his head to look at her with one raised eyebrow, smirking slightly as her face grew scarlet with embarrassment. His fingers ghosted across the back of her neck and he rubbed her back gently in a wide circle.

"Ugh. You guys make me sick." Draco said sullenly from the top of the stone steps that he was seated on across from them, blowing a matted piece of hair off of one of his eyes. Of course, this backfired terribly and bits of matted, gooey, filthy hair smacked him in the lips, causing him to gag for real.

"You should be careful what you ask for, Draco," Severus said bemusedly.

"And you should improve your _Scourgifying_ spellwork," Hermione said, rolling her eyes as she pointed her wand at him and cleaned his dirtied robes and hair until she felt satisfied with her work.

"Yes, _mother_ ," Draco replied sarcastically.

Severus scowled and made a motion as though he was about to point his wand at Draco, but Hermione stayed his hand.

"You're _welcome_ , _ferret_ ," she replied, her smirk widening.

Draco huffed and turned around abruptly so that he was sitting facing away from them.

" _Really_ mature there, Malfoy," Hermione chided, her grin widening.

"This is my ' _I'm done_ ' expression," Draco said, holding his hands up in the air as though surrendering, which looked doubly ridiculous since he was still sitting cross-legged at the top of the steps. "I don't care if you want to have a vampire parade with floats and streamers and tiny little rats dancing the Nutcracker ballet in fancy dress. Just leave _me_ out of it!"

With that, he stuck his fingers in his ears and began to sing a very loud, obnoxious rendition of an old family song.

"Speaking of annoying things I never want to hear again, where is Pansy?" Hermione asked, trying to peer past the shrubbery, buildings and pieces of dead Nachtenblutegel.

"Come, we will have to get around some of the worse bits to get a good look," Severus said, opening his arms invitingly, "Come to me and I will...levitate us both."

Hermione realized what he meant as soon as she had grasped him tightly and they began to float slowly into the air.

"It drains my energy to fly in any form, but I do not know how toxic these creatures are on their own, much less in large groups," Severus said softly, as Hermione pressed herself against him, quivering slightly. She trusted Severus not to drop her, but she still didn't like flying when it wasn't her own two wings keeping her body in the air.

When they landed, it was obvious that the battle had ended on the main front lawn as well.

Anya lay heaving on her side, her body now only the size of a timber wolf, her back and sides perforated with sharp, plant-like barbs. Green fluid dripped from the wounds and even Hermione could tell at a glance that Anya was poisoned. A short distance away, though, Pansy lay sprawled out and still, her back at a very unnatural angle. Her face had been clawed deeply, but it was hard to see properly due to the amount of blood dripping down her forehead. Hermione hated Pansy and all that she'd done, but she still gasped at the horrible image that lay before her.

Erheldt sat with Sanguini's head in his lap. He was stroking Sanguini's hair with one hand and whispering something while kissing Sanguini's thin, limp fingers, but neither Severus nor Hermione could hear what it was he was saying.

"Hermione, do you have any remaining _Dittany_?" Severus asked, looking at Anya.

Hermione pulled another vial from her bag and placed it in his hand.

"After...well...after Nagini bit you, even though my bag was still out in the middle of the Forest of Dean...I couldn't help it. I practically stockpiled it," she said softly, "I know that I sound ridiculous but I couldn't stop myself."

"Never apologize for being prepared, Hermione," Severus said, wrapping his arms around her, "You may very well have saved a number of lives because of it. Now, can you bring some _Dittany_ to help Sanguini? I shall look over Anya's wounds and do my best to get her back on her feet."

Hermione did not need to be told twice. But as she neared the two vampires, she could tell that Sanguini's wounds were severe. There was an obscene amount of blood, even with Erheldt casting spells and pressing his jacket against them.

"Please, Erheldt," Hermione said softly, "Turn him over and I'll pour the _Dittany_ on his back. I'm out of _Blood Replenisher_ , but maybe he could feed from you and get some of his strength back."

Erheldt looked dumbly at Hermione and in his eyes, though there was still that ancient stillness about him, she could also see that he was full of blind, unrelenting panic. It was obvious that he knew how bad things were.

"Turn him over _now_ , please," Hermione commanded, trying to sound like she was in charge.

Erheldt nodded silently and did as he was asked, gently turning Sanguini over. Dark blood, so dark it was nearly black, pooled and squelched in the fabric as she touched it tentatively. With a nod, she deftly sliced through the material until she could get down to his skin.

She tried not to gasp and failed miserably.

The Nachtenblutegel had cut through Sanguini's back as though it were made of butter. Organs and bone were shredded into a terrible mess that was slowly turning black with rot. Hermione messily poured the Dittany on the entire area, because there truly wasn't one place to apply it. Everywhere, Sanguini was falling apart, and Hermione couldn't tell if the magic in the potion was good enough to put him back together again. Soon, though, the skin closed around the wounds, which seemed like a good sign, but the claw and bite marks were still a dark black, standing out against the pale white of his skin.

"His wounds have closed as much as they're going to. You can feed him now," Hermione said softly.

Erheldt nodded again, his eyes filling with unshed tears. With a sharp fingernail, he sliced open his wrist and brought the blood to Sanguini's lips. Sanguini did not stir, so he changed his tactic, tipping Sanguini's head back and holding his jaw so that his mouth opened as he dripped his own blood into Sanguini's mouth. As the minutes crawled on, Hermione watched Erheldt tear his wrist open over and over every time it healed, pouring his own lifeblood into the still form of the one that Hermione had no doubt he loved. Finally, Erheldt's arm began to shake, but he steeled his expression and held his wrist firmly over Sanguini's mouth. Hermione knew he was using too much blood and she put a comforting hand on his shoulder to tell him that it was over, he was too late. Erheldt, however, shook her hand off of him with a pained noise in the back of his throat that sounded more animal than human.

"Erheldt, you idiot!" Severus shouted forcefully, seemingly coming out of nowhere and wrenching Erheldt's wrist away from Sanguini's mouth. "Try an _Ennervate_ before you pour your entire circulatory system into his lungs!"

Severus turned Sanguini on his side and made a wide, silent sweeping motion that looked similar to the movement for _Ennervate_ with an added flourish that Hermione wondered at. She'd known that he'd authored at least one spell, but she had no idea that he'd been tinkering around with standard spells as well. Of course, now she felt rather silly for not having considered it. But this was no time for feeling sorry for herself for not knowing better. A tiny voice in the back of her head told her that she was being ridiculous, anyway. Her mind felt as though it were filled with pressure from the life-or-death struggle she'd nearly lost only a short time earlier.

Hermione almost cried out with relief when Sanguini coughed and sputtered, retching slightly as blood poured from his mouth. Severus scowled, but then he moved his wand in a half circle and swish motion, a short whistle and a sung verse slipping from his thin chapped lips. Hermione goggled at him, her eyes wide with wonder at the beautiful sound.

Within moments, his face began to take on a slightly reddened tone as the blood absorbed into his body.

"I took the liberty of using a little charm I created after I Changed," Severus said, his eyebrows still set in a frown as he watched Sanguini begin to breathe somewhat shallowly, "It allows an injured vampire to absorb the blood directly into the cell walls, but it's only meant to be used in a dire situation when there is no other choice as the pain of the process is intense."

As if on cue, a horrible rattling cry escaped from Sanguini's open mouth, growing into a throaty keen that made Hermione shudder involuntarily.

"Isn't there some way to dull the pain?" Hermione asked as Erheldt squeezed Sanguini's hand and continued to stroke his hair comfortingly.

"Unfortunately, no," Severus replied, tiredly, "it slows the process, which can be the difference between life and death. Blood from an ancient vampire like Erheldt will be very strong and the healing it can provide will increase the intensity of the pain. The body is not meant to heal this quickly, but again, when it is the difference between survival and expiration, the pain is a side effect that one must accept."

Anya limped over to the others, her body still not completely human. She whimpered as she saw Erheldt and Sanguni covered with blood, and lay down stiffly on the grass, being careful not to let her stitches touch the ground.

Hermione gave Severus a quizzical look.

"The poison of that particular vine keeps wounds from closing," Severus explained, "Pansy is an idiot but she's still a Pureblooded Slytherin. It is not easy to kill another wizard, even if said wizard is not also...like _us_. Her family would have given her access to the sort of Dark magic that would help her develop the tools to kill."

"The string you used…" Hermione stared at it as it seemed to shimmer all colors of the rainbow.

"Unicorn hair. Freely given, of course," Severus said gruffly, crossing his arms and turning away so that she could only hear the embarrassment in his voice. "They...like me...or at least…they did before you and I...well, _anyway-_ that is neither here nor there! The important thing is that it has extra healing properties and I keep it in my chest pocket in the off chance it is needed."

"Are you _normally_ this paranoid?" Erheldt asked, his voice deep with grief and disbelief.

" _You_ try leaving your life to the Fates when you've been Changed against your will, forced to play double agent and then round out your decade with having your throat torn to shreds by a bloody venomous snake!" Severus hissed, his eyes flashing with fury. "Besides, should you really be acting like my fears were unfounded after all that has occurred?"

Erheldt stiffened for a moment before his shoulders sagged again.

"I am a Viper," he said quietly, "I use stealth and surprise to dispose quickly of those who do not follow our rules. I am not a soldier. I do not dirty my hands with war."

"Then what do you call all of this?" Hermione said, spreading her hand out and gesturing at the battlefield around them, "We stopped something evil before it could spread. You should feel proud that you could help with that!"

"It does not matter if...he…" Erheldt couldn't finish the words.

They all lapsed into silence as they looked at the Sanguini. It was as though they were all hoping that their collective gaze could help him heal more quickly, even if it was wishful thinking.

From his seat at the top of the stairs, Draco sighed loudly and ran his fingers through his hair before studying his nails and cursing loudly when he saw that one of them was broken and jagged looking. Moments later, he was casting intricate spellwork to smooth the nail before grumbling about how he was going to have to trim all the others to keep it from standing out.

None of them saw Garbor's fingers begin to move.


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter 60: Stanley Returns**

Sanguini's terrible coughing cries were finally beginning to subside to pain-filled whimpers when he gestured weakly with his hand.

"What was that?" Erheldt bent down and placed his ear near Sanguini's chapped, blood-encrusted lips.

"Up," Sanguini rasped.

Erheldt gingerly helped Sanguini up to a sitting position, and he looked around somewhat feverishly.

"Mus….ette," Sanguini gasped feebly, his head lolling back bonelessly from the effort of speaking.

"He's delirious," Hermione said, looking at Erheldt with comforting eyes, but Erheldt's gaze was focused on Sanguini, as though willing the injured vampire's eyes to clear and see who was holding him.

Hermione glanced at Severus, who rolled his eyes.

"I am not moving that bloody heavy thing over here so that _loverboy_ here can flop around and make an even bigger fool of himself than he already is," he said shortly.

Erheldt turned to look at Severus with a scowl and began to say something, but it was drowned out by the loudest, highest-pitched, shriek that anyone had ever heard before.

"Is that who I _think_ it is?" Hermione asked, utterly nonplussed as she twisted around towards the source of the noise.

" _Draco_." Severus growled, his eyes narrowing.

As though in response, Draco shrieked again, and Hermione was struck with the thought that he would make a fabulous soprano soloist. He really was West End material, or could be, if he put his mind to it.

 _You may want to keep that thought to yourself._

The sound of his wry chuckle in her mind made Hermione blush as she glared at Severus indignantly.

 _I would if I could keep a_ _ **certain vampire**_ _who shall remain nameless from reading my mind!_

His eyes widened slightly as her mental scolding reached him, and he placed his arm on the small of her back, tracing gentle circles to soothe her until her shoulders relaxed slightly.

 _Point duly noted. I shall take your opinions of Draco's career option as a vocalist to the grave._

Hermione snorted, despite herself.

"Let's go see what the ferret has done _this_ time," Hermione said aloud.

"Indeed. Are you ready to be escorted to the opera house, then?" Severus replied, opening his arms in invitation with a smirk.

They hovered into the air over the battlefield, and though her face was buried in his robes, Hermione could feel his body stiffen as Draco came into view.

 _What? What is it?_

Hermione could feel her heart beat slam against her chest as a terrible thought struck her. What if Garbor hadn't been finished by the Killing Curse? What if he was-

 _Hermione_.

Severus squeezed her more tightly.

 _You'll see._

The whisper in her head was infuriatingly neutral. Hermione wanted to look, but a surge of nausea filled her as she tried to turn her head to look and she buried her face back in the safety of his dark robes again.

Hermione wrenched herself away from Severus the moment they touched down, stumbling slightly as she drew her wand from her robes, just in case.

Instead, she was met with a curious sight.

Draco was grasping at the upper part of a marble column with his arms and legs wrapped around it like a kid trying to climb a rope in gym class and failing miserably. There was a rather undignified whimpering noise emanating from his lips, and he kept his eyes screwed shut as though avoiding the sight of something that was incredibly upsetting.

Hermione looked down at the long grass below him and frowned. Something seemed strange about the way it moved, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"Wait. There's no wind here. We're _underground_." Hermione said confusedly.

"Hermione, is that you? Run before they surround you too!" Draco cried, "There's thousands of them!"

"What the-" Hermione took a step towards Draco, and the rustling stopped.

"Be on your guard, Hermione," Severus said, drawing his wand as well. "Draco may be an idiot, but he knows better than to lie about life-or-death situations."

The rustling started again, and Hermione could see by the way that the grasses were moving that something was coming towards her.

"Wait." Hermione said, placing her hand gently on his arm. "This noise...it's familiar somehow."

It was then that two familiar little ears poked up over the top of the grass and a wiggly whiskered nose twitched up at her with a questioning squeak.

"STANLEY!" Hermione cried, bending down to let him crawl into her hands. "Oh, thank goodness! You're all right!"

Stanley squeaked at her as though to say, _and why wouldn't I be? I'm a grown-up rat; I can take care of myself._

"For the love of Merlin, Stanley! Call them off!" Draco squeaked from his column.

Stanley turned his head and Hermione could have sworn that he rolled his tiny dark eyes before he squeaked three times. The grass rippled and rats poured out onto the stone walkway, tiny eyes staring as noses twitched involuntarily. Draco let out a barking cry of relief and began to slide down the column. He landed somewhat ungracefully on his arse as his arms finally gave out from holding on for so long.

"You seem to have brought an army," Severus remarked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

Stanley pulled the pad of paper and pen from his messenger bag.

 _Garbor is dead. We came to finish it._

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

Stanley pointed his paw and Hermione gasped. Garbor's body was still limp and lifeless, except for his hand, which was clawing into the ground and pulling the rest of his body along like some kind of macabre inchworm. The worst part was, it seemed to hear her voice, because the hand had changed course and was slowly dragging its way over towards them.

Stanley squeaked and pulled a checkered handkerchief from his bag, dropping the makeshift flag as though starting a race. Nothing happened for a moment. Then, the other rats dropped to all fours and charged Garbor's body at full tilt. It was surrounded in moments. Stanley nodded as though this satisfied him. Then, he squeaked loudly and the other rats squeaked back in reply before they began to swarm the body until the only thing that Hermione could see was Garbor's hand as it stubbornly tried to drag the dead weight of his body towards them.

At first, Hermione thought that the rats were trying to slow Garbor down, but the swarm began to spread out more and more and she realized belatedly that the rats were _eating_ the body. Even the bones were as nothing under the needle-sharp toughness of their teeth. Soon, the arm was the only thing remaining of the terrifying, god-like vampire, and yet, the lone hand continued to crawl towards them until it too was obscured by hundreds of furry bodies and disappeared completely.

Hermione knew that this should disgust her, but instead, she found herself curious, her heart fluttering with admiration for Stanley and his furry compatriots. Severus squeezed her shoulder, his eyes as intent and curious as her own.

As they finished their grisly meal, the rats began to dissipate silently until there were only a handful of rats chewing the final bits of Garbor. They too disappeared as quietly as they'd come.

"Good lord," Draco gulped, his eyes bugging out of his head as he stared at the imprint where Garbor's body had been, "I told you they were dangerous!"

"Only to murderous psychopaths," Severus drawled, "Unless, perhaps, you would like to toss your hat in the ring as well?"

Draco paled and his eyes went wide as he backed up blindly and slipped, falling arse-first into rotting _Nachtenblutegel_ remains.

His screams and profanities were ignored as Hermione kissed Stanley on the nose and gently hugged his warm little body with her hand.

"Thank you," she whispered, her eyes swimming with tears she didn't even know had been building up behind her eyes.

Stanley tickled her cheek with his whiskers and made a questioning squeaking noise as she drew back and saw that he was pointing to her chest pocket.

"Of course, Stanley, you're always welcome to ride along with me," Hermione said, wiping her tears away with her sleeve.

Garbor's utter destruction filled her with a sense of comfort that she hadn't even knew she needed. The knowledge that his body was in so many thousands of pieces almost erased the ghastly memory of that hand dragging itself towards her, singlemindedly intent on taking her as his prey until his last moment.

"It's _over_." Hermione said softly, sniffing loudly as Severus pulled her into a comforting hug.

Draco snorted ruefully, but kept any snide comments to himself.

"We are... _free…_ " Severus said, his voice still tinged with a hint of disbelief.

And even though the smell of the _Nachtenblutegel_ flesh was still rank and sour in the air, when Severus slid his fingers under Hermione's chin and gently pulled her face up so that he could gaze into her eyes, she found herself growing heady with desire and hunger once again.

Tiny, hesitant kisses turned into hot, insistent kisses, and before she knew it, Severus was sliding his fingers under her hair and rubbing them against her neck until she shuddered. She liked it so much that she had to reciprocate, and she couldn't help grinning when a small moan escaped his lips.

Even though Draco was standing nearby with his back turned again, neither Severus nor Hermione paid his grumblings any mind as they fed one another, their faces flushed with the heat of their combined Need.

It was Stanley's somewhat indignant squeaking that brought Hermione back to herself, and she belatedly realized that her pocket _was_ pressing rather firmly against Severus.

"Sorry, Stanley!" she said, embarrassed as he wriggled out of her pocket and climbed onto her shoulder, squeaking in an irritable tone. "I know, that's no way to treat the hero of the hour."

"What am I? Chopped liver?" Severus asked, arching an eyebrow. His voice, however, was full of good humor, and it was obvious that he didn't mean what he said seriously.

"Ok, ok, _heroes_ of the hour, how about we get back to see how Sanguini is doing?" Hermione asked, snuggling back against Severus. She reveled in the secure sensation of his arm around her waist.

"As you wish," Severus said softly, tipping her chin up to kiss her softly once more as they rose into the air.

"Hey! What about me?!" Draco said from below them.

"Have fun slogging through the muck!" Severus called out as Hermione snickered against his chest. "Oh? What's so funny, Hermione?"

"Well," Hermione said, between peals of laughter, "Either Draco has a _very_ dirty mouth, or he thinks that _muck_ begins with an _f_."

Severus chuckled at that one, and Hermione pressed her ear against his chest, hearing the slow beat of his heart and feeling him shake with laughter as it filled his body.

There were still so many things to sort out in the aftermath of Garbor's reign of terror, but in that moment, as they floated weightlessly through the air, Hermione knew without a doubt that there was nowhere else that she would rather be.


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter 61: Lost and Found**

Sanguini wasn't doing much better than before when Severus and Hermione finally touched down beside Musette's overturned tank.

Erheldt was desperately trying to keep hold of a feebly struggling Sanguini, who kept choking brokenly on Musette's name, his hand outstretched as though he was so driven to see her that he would drag himself to her if there was no other option. Hermione shuddered as her mind flashed back to the image of Garbor's ghastly creeping hand.

"You need to rest and gather your strength, Sanguini!" Erheldt kept repeating over and over like a mantra.

"For what it's worth, Erheldt, I think you should let the ungrateful bastard drag himself to her by the skin of his teeth," Severus remarked darkly.

It hadn't escaped Hermione's notice that Severus was glaring very disapprovingly at Sanguini.

"He is still recovering," Erheldt said flatly, his voice hollow with disbelief.

"Is that _so_? He could have fooled me." Severus replied, sneering slightly.

Erheldt glared back, but he almost seemed relieved to have someone to take his focus off of Sanguini's flailing attempts to escape from his embrace.

"Ugh! You're all acting like idiots!" Hermione shouted suddenly, stalking over to Musette's tank. "She may be dead, but she doesn't deserve to be trapped in this... _thing_!"

"You heard what Garbor said," Erheldt said softly, "She is still alive...in a way."

"Life without an active mind behind it isn't much of a life at all! Musette deserves to be laid to rest with dignity and respect, not an eternity as an unwilling blood donor floating listlessly in a display case!" Hermione spat. She remembered the way that Neville's parents had shuffled around like living husks and shuddered a second time. There really _were_ fates worse than death.

The others gaped at her. Even Severus went silent and still as he considered her words.

Aiming her wand at the bottom of the tube, Hermione cast a Slicing Hex on it. A strange, slightly gelatinous fluid poured out, as did Musette's body, but Hermione was ready for it. She _Levitated_ Musette's body into the air, her mind trying to work out the intricacies of trying to cast a _Drying Charm_ while keeping Musette suspended in the air. It turned out that she didn't have to worry, for Severus was by her side in an instant, casting a Drying Charm until Musette seemed to be sleeping, were it not for the horrible crack down the skin of her face, which seemed even more haunting when she was outside of the tank.

Erheldt picked up Sanguini like a new bride being carried over the threshold of her new home and set him down gingerly in a sitting position nearer to his _Animavinculum_. Remarkably, Sanguini seemed to be able to sit unassisted again, but Erheldt stood nearby in silence like a particularly well-dressed shadow. Anya whimpered from the grass, her eyes going icy blue as she stared sadly at Erhedlt. Hermione gently lowered Musette until she was laid across Sanguini's lap. Sanguini took a long, stuttering breath and wrapped his shaking arms around her body.

"I am so sorry I could not save you from _him_ ," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

Sanguini stroked Musette's cheek gently, and Hermione had to hold back a sob of her own. Even the thought of Severus being dead made her feel ill. She knew that she'd do anything to save him, even if it had the merest chance of success. It was ironic that she'd felt ill for not having done anything to save him when he'd been attacked by Nagini and yet here she was now, feeling ill at the thought of losing him after doing everything possible to keep him alive.

As though he'd heard her thoughts, Severus slipped his fingers around hers and squeezed gently.

It was then that an odd thing happened. A strange pulse of blue light grew brighter and brighter, flashing like a heartbeat from within Musette's chest. Slowly, the light traveled up her neck until it burst from her lips gently and hovered in the air. The light floated in front of Sanguini's face and he stared at it, utterly transfixed. And then, suddenly, Hermione could smell summer strawberries and the heat of the sun shining down on her. There was the sound of distant laughter, but instead of being creepy, it filled her heart with a joyful nostalgia that made her smile. As she glanced to look at Severus, Erheldt and Anya, she could see that they too seemed to be experiencing something similar, as each held expressions of quiet joy on their faces.

The light grew brighter until Hermione could see a woman's face shining out from the middle of it. When she spoke, it wasn't so much in words as it was a song in Hermione's head

 _My love, this meeting strikes me hollow_

 _For I must go where you cannot follow,_

 _And yet, you've done so much for me,_

 _For it was your actions which set me free,_

 _You are wounded, twin heart of mine,_

 _And so I offer you my time,_

 _The health so cruelly snatched away,_

 _So that you may love and live and play._

 _Know your love for me is true,_

 _As is the love of others too._

 _My love gives you another chance_

 _To find another true romance._

 _Sanguini, oh, I love you so,_

 _I wish I did not have to go,_

 _And yet, sweet one, I know that we_

 _Will share our bond eternally._

Hermione didn't realize that tears were streaking her cheeks until she felt a strange dripping sensation as they hit the ground. A glance over to the others revealed that the song had affected them similarly. Even Severus had shed a single tear, which rolled down one side of his face unhindered. Hermione's eyes widened at this, but she said nothing. Sanguini's face, though, was drenched with tears. Sobs of grief and love racked his frame as his soul mate sang her last song to him.

The light flickered and pressed against Sanguini's forehead, and there was a ripple of blue light as it slowly enveloped his body. Hermione couldn't see clearly from where she stood, but she had the feeling that if she looked Sanguini over, she'd find that his wounds had healed completely. The flicker began to grow more erratic until it simply winked out of existence and they were all left blinking through tears and the afterimage of the flashing orb. Moments later, Musette's body dissolved into ash and seemed to be caught by an invisible wind, which pulled it into the sky.

Sanguini was the first to move. He stood slowly as though he was testing out his limbs to be certain they worked. Then, Sanguini turned and strode over to Erheldt, who was still standing with a stunned expression on his face, and wrapped his arms tightly around him.

"I would never forget you, Erheldt," Sanguini whispered loudly, nuzzling against Erheldt's chin-strap beard, "I just had to say goodbye to her first."

Erheldt seemed to snap out of his reverie and he hugged Sanguini fiercely, muttering something into his shoulder that only Sanguini seemed to hear. Whatever it was, though, Hermione could see that Sanguini smiled in response to it, and she finally let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding.

Severus squeezed her hand again and she looked up at him with a look of pure adoration.

"I think that this might be a good time to depart," Severus said softly, his expression betraying his desire to press his body against hers.

Hermione shivered and squeezed his hand back.

"I think that I agree wholeheartedly," she replied with a grin and a devilish wink.

Draco finally showed up a few minutes later, his robes and shoes covered in gunk.

"This is the last time I ever bloody help anyone ever again!" he moaned, looking down at his soiled clothing. "I bet this stains, too!"

"Do not worry," Erheldt said, looking up from the death grip hug Sanguini was in the middle of enacting on his body, "I shall send you a token of my thanks once we have sorted everything out."

Draco groaned.

"You can't mean to say that we have to stick around through the aftermath and paperwork in vampire city!" he exclaimed.

Erheldt chuckled.

"Oh, no. But I do believe that this is where our paths diverge. Sanguini, Anya and I shall stay behind to explain to the others on the Council what has transpired. Severus, you know how to get back to the Underground station, correct?"

Severus nodded curtly and turned on his heel, pulling Hermione along with him.

"Really, Severus? No goodbyes?" Sanguini said, sounding slightly miffed.

"More like good _riddance_!" Severus huffed, scowling.

Hermione gave him a look and turned back around, addressing them all.

"Thank you for coming to my rescue, and for sparing Severus from being killed, not necessarily in that order, but I'm sure you understand what I mean," Hermione said, bowing her head slightly in deference. "Anya, I hope that you heal well. I'm happy to offer my belly-rubbing service anytime you need it."

Anya wagged her tail at this, whimpering when it seemed to cause her pain.

"Oh, and Sanguini? I'd take Musette's advice," Hermione continued, smiling, "Appreciate the love you receive in the here and now. Don't waste your time on obsessing over the past or you will never move forward."

Sanguini nodded at this and as if on cue, both he and Erheldt waved. Hermione waved back even though Severus snorted and pretended not to notice. Surprisingly, Draco waved back a few times before scoffing and stuffing his hands in his pockets as he followed Hermione and Severus back down the streets towards the station.

Hermione smirked when Draco finally relented and begged her to Scourgify him again, but she was happy to do it. With Stanley squeaking happily from her pocket and Severus allowing her to press her weight against him to rest as they sat across from Draco on the train ride back, Hermione could not help but think that she'd had enough adventure for an entire lifetime.

Of course, a lifetime meant something completely different now that she was a vampire, but Hermione decided that she could think about that later, preferably after a couple more feeds, a couple more flights and many, many hours naked and in bed with the one she loved.


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter 62: An Epilogue That Doesn't Bite- Part 1**

The dark-robed witch pushed open the double doors quietly and pressed her way inside. She walked down the softly-lit halls with a measured pace. It was obvious that she'd taken this very route many times before.

Her hood began to slip a bit and she tugged it down until all that was visible was her rather distinctive pug-like nose and full lips.

But it was very late in the evening and there was no one about. The Medi-Witches would be doing their rounds in the upper floors, and besides, not many people visited the particular ward that lay at the end of the hall.

The wards on the door rippled to admit her and it swung open on its own, but she didn't pause in the slightest. After all, with her _Family Member_ visitor pass, she was able to enter and exit when she wished without worrying about anyone sneaking past her.

The room was at the end of the line of small rooms. The last couple of lights in the hall were extinguished, but the witch didn't seem to find the darkness a problem whatsoever. She paused at the door, looking up slightly at the name attached to the clipboard that hung to the left of it before she turned the knob.

Inside, it was dark, save a small, greenish-blue light that seemed to give the room an underwater feel to it. A messy bed sat empty against one wall, causing the witch to turn her head sharply, only to sigh with relief at finding a figure sitting in an old-fashioned wheelchair, staring at the blackened windows as though it was possible see outside.

"Hello, Pansy," Hyacinth said softly, but the hunched figure did not move.

"Hy...a...cinth. I...did...n't...know. You. Were. Com...ing." Pansy's voice was soft and she stuttered, her breath labored from the effort of talking.

"Don't over exert yourself! You're still healing!" Hyacinth replied, pulling back her hood to reveal her hair drawn back in a severe bun and her eyes filled with sympathy. She stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Pansy's shoulder.

"D...don't...l..lie." Pansy replied, her voice flat, but she didn't shake off her sister's hand.

Hyacinth's shoulders drooped and she nodded in the darkness.

"I know. No matter what they do, they can't seem to heal you, now. The Healers told me that you spent too much time between humanity and being like me. They didn't want me to tell you, you know. They think you're too fragile and that knowing the truth will make you give up."

"Th..they..are...r-right. No hope. Not now." Pansy's finger on her right hand twitched over a runic display on the arm of the wheelchair and she turned.

Hyacinth stepped back reflexively, though her broken sister's injuries were mostly hidden. Pansy's back was still twisted horribly to the point that she looked as though someone had twisted her twice round, wringing her body out like a rag, which had elongated her torso in an unnatural, crooked manner. Thankfully, the Medi-witches had covered her from the chest down with a blanket so that it wasn't immediately obvious.

But they both knew the truth.

"T...take...me...h..home." Pansy's voice was practically a gurgle from exertion. "I...w..want..to..see...the...sun..."

Hyacinth went very still.

"P….Pl...eea...sssssse."

"You don't know what you're asking."

"Th...this...is...n..ot..li...liv...ving."

Hyacinth was glad for the dark. She could feel the pink-tinged tears running down her cheeks.

"D...don..t...cr...ry…"

"F..fuck. Pansy...I...I forgot you could see." Hyacinth felt her voice tremble, and she began to shake as she broke down at last.

A strange, choking noise escaped Pansy's lips and Hyacinth realized belatedly that her sister was trying to laugh.

"F...for..got..ten...e...ven...by..you," Pansy choked out, before going silent.

"Are you sure?" Hyacinth said, her voice small and hollow in the darkness.

Pansy's head jerked to the side twice in quick succession, as though she were a puppet with half its strings cut.

"Fine, then. I will sign the necessary papers." Hyacinth stared at the floor, unable to stare at her sister.

"S...sis…"

Hyacinth wrapped her arms around Pansy gently, pulling back only when she thought she had enough strength not to start crying again.

"I will be back," she said softly as she reached the door.

Hyacinth could see Pansy's head jerk twice in the demented motion she'd come to realize was a nod.

Her sister was right, though. This wasn't living.

It was hell.

* * *

Her sister was so light and frail that Hyacinth had no problem carrying Pansy outside and Apparating back to Hogsmeade. Pansy was wrapped to her chin in a white comforter, as the chill in the air was particularly nasty that evening. Lars was waiting for them at the door, his eyes full of sadness.

"She wanted to come home to watch the sunrise," Hyacinth said.

"I see. Well, she is always welcome here," Lars said, rubbing Hyacinth's back comfortingly, "Welcome home, Pansy."

* * *

The fenced yard at the back of the _Jugular Veinue_ was rarely used, as vampires generally did not do much sunbathing, so it was generally used as more of a storage area for items that were too big to be kept inside during shows. The south side of the yard contained a small gazebo where Madame Puddifoot grew a number of small flowering vines and miniature tea roses that she used in her shop. A white wicker chair had been placed out in the middle of this tiny garden, ostensibly so that one could take tea outside on a nice, sunny afternoon.

Neither Hyacinth nor Lars knew much about this, however, seeing as a nice, sunny afternoon was not nice at all as far as vampires were concerned.

But Pansy had wanted to see the sunrise one last time, and they were going to do all they could to give her what she'd asked for.

A soft knock came at the door an hour before sunrise.

"Ah, please, do come in. We are honored that you were willing to come," Lars said, ushering the newcomer down the hall into the bar, "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you," came the reply.

"Ah, Draco, please, Pansy is just through here," Hyacinth said from the doorway.

Draco nodded and walked quietly over to where she was standing.

"I know that things between you and Pansy have not been the best in recent time, and I did tell her that one of our Rennies would be happy to do the honors, but she asked for you." Hyacinth smiled tightly in a manner that looked more like a grimace.

"In your letter, you mentioned that she would have to...feed," Draco said, his voice shaking slightly, "Won't that...heal her?"

Hyacinth covered her eyes with one hand and a sound caught in her throat, causing her to take a singular breath before she could compose herself again.

"She's refused any mortal blood unless you offer yours freely, so I cannot say."

Draco's eyes narrowed.

"Well, she always was a stubborn girl, always had to have her way, you know?" he said, after a long pause.

"I know," Hyacinth sniffled, her voice husky with grief, "This way, then."

They walked out through a series of hallways and doors to the back yard. A circle of space had been cleared away, and Lars had really outdone himself by hoisting a plush chaise lounge from the bar area into the middle of it. Pansy lay crookedly across it, her body wrapped in a sheet. Her face was pale and gaunt with starvation. One of her hands was gnarled into a claw and lay frozen across her chest. Her other arm was laid out straight by her side, and he could see that only two of her fingers seemed able to move. Her eyes tracked him from the ruined shell of her body, and out of all of her, they seemed to be the only things that were truly alive about her.

"D...ra...co…" she rasped.

The sky was just beginning to grow slightly pink and it was obvious that the dawn was on its way.

"Draco, please, let me do the honors," Hyacinth said, motioning for him to hand his wrist to her.

"It's the least I can do." He did so, watching with fascination as her fangs slid down past her upper lip. He gasped with pleasure when she slid her fangs into his wrist.

"There, now, just drip it into her mouth," Hyacinth said softly, standing on the other side of Pansy and stroking her younger sister's hair as Draco did as he was asked. He flinched slightly as Pansy's surprisingly cold tongue slid against the open wound at his wrist, but her eyes were watching him intensely the entire time.

Long moments passed, the sun's approach growing closer and closer, until Hyacinth finally excused herself after kissing her sister one final time on the forehead.

"You'll know when it's time," Hyacinth said as Draco fixed her with a slightly panicked expression, "Don't worry, for her, it will be quick."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Draco finally couldn't stand it any longer.

"I know, I know. You still hate me for crushing on Granger," Draco said softly, sitting down on the corner of the chaise lounge, "Well, joke's on me. Apparently she's too busy being Snape's soul mate to give me the time of day. How's that for a cruel irony?"

Pansy made a noise like a muffled sigh and Draco pulled his wrist away to let her speak.

"Strong..er..now..thank...you, Draco," she rasped.

Are you sure that this is what you want? I can bring you inside, if you change your mind," Draco said, his voice wavering for a moment, "I meant it when I said that it was the least I could do. I've been thinking these last couple of months, and even though I'm still the proud bastard I've always been, I will admit that I was unfair to you. I should have broken up with you properly instead of stringing you along while I crushed on someone else. It was wrong. I tried to build up the courage to come over here and ask your sister about you, but I couldn't do it in the end. I just wanted everything to go back to normal, even though I know that's impossible."

"I...missed you," Pansy said, her voice still rough, but slightly better than before.

"It hasn't been the same in the common room without you, Pansy," Draco replied, a hint of his devilish smile on his lips.

"It's time for you...to miss me, now," Pansy said, her lips turning up slightly as tiny white points slipped past her lips. They weren't true vampire fangs, but it was enough.

Draco slipped his fingers through the hand that lay at her side and he could feel her two good fingers squeezing gently against his grip.

"I'm sorry, Draco," Pansy whispered.

"What for?"

"It's...all...my...fault…" she trailed off, her eyes fixed on the growing light in the sky.

Draco realized that her fingers had stopped moving and she'd grown silent. In fact, once the sun had risen over the hills, he noticed that Pansy's skin had gone a strange ashen color.

"Pansy?" he ventured, stroking her cheek.

A small crack appeared where he'd touched her, and it flaked off, floating into the air. The gray was spreading across her body, and he realized at last that it was consuming her from the outside in, like an invisible fire.

Draco watched over Pansy's body as the sun climbed higher and higher into the sky, until all that was left was a pile of ash wrapped in linen.

"Pansy, you idiot," Draco said, his eyes tearing up even as he tried to stop them from doing so, "why did you have to make me miss you?"


	63. Chapter 63

Author's Note: Don't think I was going to leave you hanging, dear readers! Severus and Hermione's story still hasn't come to a satisfying end, and it would be a shame to leave so many loose ends lying around, don't you agree?

There are sexy-bits, so reader beware. ;)

* * *

 **Chapter 63: An Epilogue That Doesn't Bite- Part 2**

Hermione slowly opened her eyes in the darkness and snuggled closer to the warmth of her mate, who was lying on his back with his eyes closed which made him look more like a vampire than ever. She turned to face him slowly and placed her lips against his ear.

"I know you're awake, Severus," she whispered, her fangs slipping down slightly past her upper lip.

"And _I_ know that tone of voice," Severus whispered back, turning to his side and opening his eyes slowly to stare down at her. "Hungry again?"

"For more than _one_ thing, as always," Hermione said, her voice full of barely repressed need as she snuggled closer. "What can I say? You've corrupted me."

Severus snorted softly and slid his hair back over his shoulder, revealing the creamy white skin of his neck and shoulder.

"The feeling is mutual, my love," he replied, stroking her back as she nuzzled against his neck and slipped her fangs under his skin.

Hermione moaned against his skin and shivered as she felt the energy of his Need well in his blood. Gently, he sunk his teeth into her neck, savoring the feeling of Hermione's hands grasping his shoulders so firmly that he knew that her fingernails would likely leave a mark.

"M... _more…_ " Hermione murmured, pulling her fangs free, her pupils blown wide. She began to lick and suck his neck, trailing kisses along his jaw and up his chin until he finally pulled free from his feed and met her lips hungrily. She could taste the coppery flavor of her own blood on his lips, but it only made her want him more. She pulled away for a moment and then rolled him onto his back, kissing him urgently as she slid his grey boxer briefs down his hips and rubbed against his erect cock.

"Patience, Hermione. As you know, good things come to those who wait," Severus replied softly, sliding his fingers down her back and tugging at the waistband of her knickers.

Hermione tipped backwards against his pale legs just as Severus pulled his knees up, giving her something to press against as he pulled her knickers down the rest of the way, flinging them to the side immediately once they were off. His erection was between Hermione's back and his legs, and she moved gently against the firmness of it in the hopes of sending pleasurable sensations up his spine even as he reached to rub against her vulva and gently around her clitoral hood. Hermione arched her back and pressed against his touch, her mind growing blank as her breathing grew shallow.

"I...love...it...when...you..do.. _ah-hhahnnn-that_!" Hermione panted, throwing her head back as she tried to speak coherently and failed spectacularly. Her self control seemed to melt away, and she could feel his mind humming along with hers, filling her with a security and desire she knew she'd never be able to get enough of as long as they were together.

* * *

Severus smiled at how easily he brought her pleasure, and how so many days and nights of practice had led to such exquisite abilities. Hermione was not a demanding lover, but he would not be satisfied with himself until she came at least four times, that is, unless she told him otherwise.

Slipping one finger and then two inside of her, he marveled at his view of her bucking against his hand mindlessly, her body seeking out the growing need for release inside of her. When she finally came, he moaned along with her sharp cries, their fangs extending in a mirrored snarl of pleasure.

"Please, ride me," Severus moaned softly, "I want to look at you. You're...exquisite."

He held her hips firmly as she slid down on top of him, taking in a sharp intake of air as he bottomed out inside of her.

"Agh...nggh…" Hermione said, wincing slightly, even as Severus felt waves of heated pleasure pulse around him.

"Shhhh, it's ok," he reassured her, running his hands over her back gently until they came to rest on the slight curve of her belly and looking up with concern. "Shall I stop?"

"N..no, it's fine. I just...give me a moment," Hermione said, blushing as she brought her hands down over his. "It's just...my stomach is a bit embarrassing."

"You are amazing, Hermione," Severus breathed, "Please do not think that I would _ever_ think less of you, no matter what changes your body undergoes."

"So much for the expectation of being young and perfect forever," Hermione grumbled.

Severus snorted, and the movement of his body seemed to travel down to where they lay connected to one another, prompting a tiny, surprised moan from Hermione's lips.

"If you call _this_ young and perfect forever, I believe that a pair of glasses are in order," he quipped, gesturing to his body.

Hermione snorted and angled her face down slightly, wincing when the small bump at her abdomen prevented her from leaning all the way down to meet his lips. Severus saw her look of frustration and acted instantly, sitting up more until he was frozen in an uncomfortable half-sit-up pose. His face, however, was anything but uncomfortable as a small smile traveled up one side of his face at the pressure of her lips upon his.

Hermione cupped his cheekbone in one hand and stared into his eyes with a half-lidded look of adoration. She reluctantly pulled away from the kiss and ground her hips against his gently until he moaned, his expression of lust and love mirroring hers.

"I love you, Severus," she purred softly, her forehead gently pressing against his.

"I have never loved as I love you, Hermione," he moaned back, his voice nearly breaking as he searched her eyes with an expression torn between caution and desire.

"Yessssss…" Hermione's eyes went wide and she dug her fingers into his shoulders, her movements growing more and more insistent as she sought her pleasure, bucking hard against him until he was crying out incoherently with absolutely no regard to the tiny voice in the back of his head that kept going on about how embarrassing he must sound.

She shuddered and he knew she was at the brink of orgasm, her hips moving with an urgency that he knew was a losing battle on her part, but he didn't care about himself. He simply wanted to watch her come apart above him, to know that it was his body that could do such a wonderous thing to the one he loved.

Just then, Hermione opened her eyes and Severus pulled himself up enough to kiss her and it was in that moment that Hermione opened up her mind, sharing her pleasure with him in a massive burst that seemed to rock him to his very core. They cried out together as they both hit their limits together, his orgasm melting into the sensation of hers until both were gasping and incoherent, Hermione collapsed upon his chest even as their bodies remained connected with the final throes of orgasmic bliss.

Severus drew his arms around Hermione, helping her gently slide to his side so that he could spoon her from behind.

"Ah...ah...amazing…" Hermione panted as he kissed her head softly, his arm wrapping around her waist protectively.

"I would have to agree, my love," he said with a tiny sigh as he buried his nose in her hair, revelling in her scent.

Hermione snuggled back into him and made a cute little squeaking sound that he knew at once was a sound of contentment, and he smiled into her hair, closing his eyes as he focused on the sound and sensation of her breathing.

For even though vampires did not generally need to breathe so often, it was a testament to the nature of the activities they'd been enjoying, along with the quicker-than-usual beat of her vampiric heart.

* * *

It was then that both Hermione heard the unmistakable noise of the tiniest knock she'd ever heard upon their door.

"I wonder who that could be?" Hermione said, perking up slightly with confusion.

"I don't care if it's the bloody pizza delivery man, I require more time. Naked. With You." Severus drew Hermione closer in a protective hug and made a grumpy noise when she wiggled herself free.

"Don't worry, Severus," she smirked mischievously as she turned around grabbing behind herself for the robes she'd thrown over the chair near the bed, "I plan on continuing as soon as I've sent them on their way."

"Wake me when it's over," Severus said in a mock-grumpy voice, sending Hermione an arched eyebrow and a smirk before he pulled the blankets up over his head and glared pointedly at the door from the tiny blanket cave he'd created.

Hermione rolled her eyes and opened the door slowly, looking out into the hall.

"That's odd-WHA-?!" Hermione cried out in surprise as a strange pulling sensation ran up the front of her robes.

" _Hermione_!" Severus was by her side in a moment, even though all he had to cover his manhood was a pillow as he stood with his wand held at the ready.

" _Stanley_!" Hermione squealed excitedly as the heroic little rat finally scaled her shoulder and stood panting, pulling a letter from his little messenger bag. He handed it to her with a nose twitch and the tiniest eye-roll at Severus, who was still standing frozen with the pillow pressed against his groin and his black greasy hair messily strewn about his face as though it had been recently sent through a wind tunnel.

"What's this?" Hermione asked, turning over the letter and looking at the handwriting that was on the front of it.

"Well, I know when I'm _not wanted_!" Severus said grumpily, turning and giving Hermione an eyeful of his naked arse before he could switch the position of the pillow to cover it. He threw the covers over his body with a huff and turned towards the wall.

"Are you pouting because a rat stole your thunder?" Hermione asked, looking up from the letter with an arched eyebrow of her own.

"I'm not pouting," Severus grumbled from under the covers, "I'm hibernating."

"Oh, I _see_ ," Hermione replied, hiding her smirk as she pulled the card from the envelope and unfolded the paper inside to reveal the writing within, "Wait... _really_?"

"What is it? Has Stanley invited us to his birthday party? I imagine he will be serving _cheesecake,_ yes?" Severus remarked darkly, and Hermione snorted.

"You _are_ pouting, then, aren't you Severus?" she replied, "but you might just change your mind when you read this."

"Hmph. Doubtful." Came the muffled reply.

Hermione stroked Stanley on the head and scratched gently behind his ears.

"Come on, you," she said gently, "Let's get you some cheese for your hard work."

She ignored the giant, theatrical sigh from the direction of the bed and picked up her wand from the bedside table, pointing it at the paper. The card magically refolded into a paper airplane, which she then aimed right for the head-shaped lump on the bed.

" _Read_ it," she said, shaking her head and smirking slightly as he let out a cry of dismayed surprise, "you might be surprised at what's inside."

Hermione summoned some cheese and plate along with a nice, shiny apple that she'd been saving for Stanley. Stanley, on the other hand, squeaked with delight and slid down her arm onto the table, rubbing his little hands together with anticipation of the delicious meal.

"They want to... _WHAT_?!" Severus exclaimed, prompting Hermione to turn her head and see that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed with the comforter wrapped around him like a hooded cloak.

"Well, you've got to admit that the vampires are quite a bit better than the Ministry with their...what did you call them again? _Foolish, pompous award ceremonies and such_?" Hermione's smirk grew wider as Severus shot a mock glare at her, his eyes softening immediately when he saw her looking back at him.

"Still…." he trailed off. "I can't believe that they'd transfer this amount of Galleons into our respective accounts."

"A crazy psychopath who was also in charge of the Council tried to rape me and murder you," Hermione replied briskly, crossing the room and sitting next to him, "It's really the least they could do."

* * *

Severus saw how her lip quivered uncontrollably as she finished speaking, and he knew that even summing up Garbor's treatment as flippantly as she had was still incredibly upsetting to Hermione. He lifted up the blanket and wrapped it around her along with his arm, pulling her close to him again.

"I will never allow anyone to hurt you like that," he promised, nuzzling gently against her as she turned to press her face into his chest.

"Personally, I would prefer that neither you nor I ever find ourselves placed in that position," Hermione replied, sniffing slightly.

"Of course, I know you'd never allow it, and with Stanley around to back you up, I'm mere window dressing. Black, batty window dressing." Severus replied, his lips turning up in a small, sad smile as Hermione finally unburied her face from his chest and looked up with a sad smile of her own.

"You make me so, so happy," she said, her voice filled with undefinable emotion, "you know that, right?"

"I know that you are apparently a masochist, because who else would willingly and happily put up with me?" Severus quipped, his voice growing serious as he continued, "In all honesty, Hermione, if I can make you as happy as you say, it will only be a fraction of what you deserve."

"Batty grump," Hermione accused with a snort of laughter that she was obviously trying to hold back.

"Sexy minx." Severus replied playfully, tousling her hair gently and smirking when she blushed scarlet. "What? I thought we were stating the obvious!"

With that, he kissed her soundly and she mewled with pleasure as she kissed him back.

They were interrupted by a squeak that could mean nothing else other than "Oh, _brother_!"

"If you don't like it, then get your own room, Stanley," Severus murmured, his lips whispering against Hermione's, "This one is taken."

* * *

It was a clear, starry night above the scenic cliff that overlooked the ocean. A massive harvest moon hung in the sky, its massive yellow light like a miniature sun in the sky. Thankfully for all of the vampires who sat on either side of the aisle on plain wooden benches, it did not have the same, fiery effect.

The two figures who stood facing the wedding officiant, who was wearing sweeping white robes and a solemn expression, were dressed in robes of midnight blue and the deepest scarlet red that anyone had ever seen.

Hermione waved at Sanguini from the front bench when he looked back nervously before looking back at his intended with a nervous yet hopeful smile. Though neither of them had family in the traditional sense, the rows were filled with those who had become family in the aftermath of that terrible final battle and the rebuilding that had come after.

"You may now exchange rings and speak your vows in full view of your honored guests and witnesses," said the wedding officiant, his voice with an edge of dry sarcasm in it even as he tried hard to stay neutral.

"Sanguini, it is with a happy heart that I give you this ring, and with it, the pledge of my heart for eternity, regardless of the good times or the bad. You are my home, my safe place to rest, and it was only when I thought that I might lose you forever that I finally realized that there is no other place I would rather be than your side." Erheldt smiled and slipped the ring on Sanguini's finger, his eyes intent on his fiance as though they were the only two vampires in the world.

"Erheldt, I give you this ring, which represents the depth of love within my heart and soul. I will honor you and cherish you until I crumble to dust, and even if I venture beyond the Veil, I shall always love you as a friend, as a lover, as a partner and equal in this world. You are my sun and my stars, and I shall always watch for you and protect your heart with my own." With that, Sanguini slid the ring onto Erheldt's finger and they entwined their fingers on both hands, staring into each other's eyes.

"With the right of law passed down for generations of the Vampire Council and in accordance to the rules of our forebearers, I pronounce you Bonded," Severus announced, pulling his wand from the bright white officiant robes and making a complex motion in the air.

A bright blue light enveloped the two vampires and spread out in a shockwave through the air leaving them sparkling as though they'd been dusted with stardust.

Everyone applauded as the two Bonded vampires made their way back up the aisle. Anya, in wolf form, walked in front of them, shaking her body gently from side to side so that enchanted multi-colored flowers lifted out of the baskets attached to either side of her body and floated into the air, glowing softly.

Hermione stood with the others, watching them head towards the reception area, which was down at the bottom of the hill.

"You sure know your charms. The flowers were a nice touch," a dark voice purred in Hermione's ear, and she nearly jumped with surprise before snuggling into Severus and chuckling quietly.

"You know, I think you look rather dashing in white," Hermione mused, smirking when she felt him stiffen.

" _Please_. Change them back." His voice was plaintive, but she knew he wasn't seriously upset.

"Well, you _did_ say please," Hermione replied, pulling out her wand and turning his bright white robes black once more.

"Ah, that's _much_ better," Severus replied, wrapping his arms around her and kissing the top of her head, his hands rubbing her shoulders down to her abdomen, which was starting to look ridiculously bulbous at this point. He smiled as he felt a rolling movement against his hand.

"My thoughts exactly," Hermione said, smiling as she closed her eyes and savored the safety of being in his embrace. "Oh, this whole thing reminds me..."

"Mmm?" Severus replied, closing his eyes.

"I keep forgetting to ask you," Hermione replied, and somehow Severus knew what she was going to say, even before she'd uttered the words.

"Yes," he whispered, "That is my answer, now and forever."

Hermione turned, looking at him oddly.

" _Will_ you marry me, Severus?" she said, her lips barely whispering his name.

He shivered deliciously. He loved how she said his name, like it was the most beloved sound she could make.

"Yes," he replied, his lips whispering against her, "A thousand, a million times, _yes_."

They stood together under the fullness of the moon, their bodies pressed together saying what mere words could not.

No one saw, save a small rat, who sat on the front bench munching on a magical flower petal and making an expression that, had anyone suspected rats could smirk, would be an obvious look of smugness that could most definitely be interpreted as "I _knew_ it!"

Severus smiled blissfully when Hermione slipped her fangs into his neck, his own Need growing until he found himself suckling at her neck as well, their minds and their hearts growing so close that it was almost as though they had become one.

There would be time for love, for lust, for the inevitability of parenthood and the night of their own Bonding, but for now, it was enough, for they had each other.

The End

* * *

Thank you, all, for your patience and your support as I have been writing this bittersweet, lovely vampire story! As always, I appreciate your feedback and your thoughts!


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